Hellsing: Geist Krieg
by Metropolis Kid
Summary: Sequel to Seras Sees Dead People. A simple night at the movies, a date for Seras and Pip, snowballs into a fight against Millennium ghosts when Zorin shows up looking for revenge. Co-written with Crow T. R0bot.
1. Night at the Movies

**Hellsing: Geist Krieg. **

**Night at the Movies.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any material contained within this story. All copyrighted content remains the property of the person, people, or organization that holds the copyright. This story is solely for fun.

**AN:** This story is being co-written with Crow T R0bot.

"No, none of you are coming with us!" Seras's desire was a simple one. She only wanted to go on a date with her boyfriend. However, nothing in the young Fledgling/Nexus's life could ever be easy. She was the ghosts' link to the land of the living, and they refused to let her and Pip just go out by themselves. Seras could've banished the ghosts just like she had the Joker, but that seemed a little drastic. Besides, she didn't want to banish them. She'd become rather attached to her gang of lost souls. Even Jan had started to grow on her.

"Well why the Fuck not?"

Pip lightly slapped the back of the overly pierced vampire ghost's head. "Hey! What have I told you about watching your language in front of the kid." He pointed to Casper.

"Well I, for one, am tired of sitting around this mansion. I want to go out. Maybe get in a good fight and toss a few guys through a few walls?" The green half Orc, known as the Grey Prince, let out a good natured belly laugh.

"Come on guys. Can't Pip and I spend one night alone?" Seras was nearly pleading.

"Ah, you two've spent plenty of nights 'alone'." Jan made finger quotes. "Aren't you tired out yet?"

"I don't mean like that. Oooh!" Seras stomped her foot. "I just want to go out on a date!"

Jack cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me, love. But I may have a solution to the problem. Why don't you two lovebirds go see a movie. We'll all accompany you to the theater and go see something else there." Jack twirled one side of his mustache between his thumb and index finger. "That way you two can have your date in relative privacy, and we still get to go out and do something."

"You know, Captain Jack, every once and awhile you have a pretty good idea." Pip turned to his girl. "Well, what do you say, Mignonette?"

* * *

Seras had felt a little guilty, only buying one ticket when a half dozen of them where going to the theater, but what else could she have done? Bought six tickets, handed them out and let everyone watch as they floated in mid air? Besides, six tickets would've cost a decent chunk of change, and it wasn't like any of the ghosts could've helped her pay. So, she only bought the one ticket. She then seemingly sat alone in the back corner.

In reality the young strawberry blond was far from alone as she sat surrounded by her ghosts. All right, I bought a ticket to Hitch. You guys can go see any other movie, but leave that one for Pip and me, okay?"

"Ah, Mignonette, do we really have to see a romantic comedy? Can't we go watch something with a bit of action in it?"

"Oh, come on, Pip. Please, for me?" Seras smiled at the mercenary ghost.

Pip sighed. He just couldn't resist that smile. "Alright, but I want you to know I wouldn't do this for any one else."

Seras giggled and gave Pip a quick peck on the cheek. "Come on, let's go get some refreshments." She dragged a hovering Pip away, leaving the other ghosts behind to discuss which movie they would see.

"Well, how about Sin City? That looks like a good one!" The Grey Prince offered up.

"Sorry, mate, it's not out yet." Jack replied.

Casper pointed to one of the posters. "Well, how about the Pacifier? It looks funny."

"What the..." Jan caught himself, before continuing. "Duce are you thinking kid? It's got a PG rating."

The Grey prince scratched his head for a moment. "Doesn't that mean that it'll be a good movie for the kid?"

"Yeah, and boring as watching paint dry for the rest of us."

"Oh, I don't know. Some of Disney's live action movies are pretty good." Jack twirled his mustache again.

Jan just sighed and slumped his head. He was out voted. "Okay, fine. We go see the... F'n kid's show."

* * *

Pip had decided that the movie wasn't too bad. It was definitely a 'chick flick', but at least it had some funny parts. Of course, Pip knew that part of the reason he didn't mind the movie was because he got to have Seras's head resting on his arm. His eyes left the screen to look over at her, and the French ghost ran his free hand lightly through his Mignonette's hair. Seras let out a contented sigh and repositioned herself slightly, though her head never left her lover's arm.

Jan was not nearly as pleased with the movie he was watching. _Over a half hour into this thing and still no blood. What's wrong with the people over at Disney? Don't they know that a movie's only good if it's got action, gun play and/or nudity? When are those mouse lovers going to make something good?_ Jan looked at the rest of the group. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves. He looked back at the screen for a moment before turning away again. _Errr, I can't take this anymore! I've got to get out of here!_ Jan got up and quickly left the room.

He walked out into the lobby and breathed deeply for awhile. _Stupid movie! Being a sadistic member of Millennium and a vampire in life, I thought I knew what torture was but that... That was horrible._ Having escaped from his Disney prison, Jan looked for a different movie to crash. He saw that one of the show rooms was playing Constantine. _Huh, doesn't that have the guy from the Matrix movies?_ He looked over at one of the posters. _Yup, Keanu Reeves. Think I'll try that one. It's got to be better than the stupid Pacifier. Who would've thought Riddick could've fallen so far?_

Outside the theater, a masculine looking blond vampire ghost sniffed the air. _Ahhh_. "She's here." _Now, little Hellsing, you're going to find out how it feels to have __**your**_ _face grated! _

A white haired, one armed man, seemingly unaware of the monstrous woman next to him, stepped up to the ticket booth to purchase a ticket.

"Yes, what'll you be seeing today sir?" The woman inquired as the odd man stepped up in line.

There was a brief pause as the man made eye contact with ticket saleswoman.

"Give me the 8:00 showing for Constantine, if you would," he said in a low, somewhat stoic rasp.

The man parted with several British Pounds and scooped up the ticket before moving on. He and the ghost accompanying him stepped into the lobby, just as Jan entered the Constantine show room. The unlikely pair skirted through the thin crowd, giving only a passing acknowledgment to the additional employees checking to make sure no one had snuck in, and even bypassing the admittedly crowded concession stand for their destination.

A trio of loitering punks hanging against the wall of the lobby had interrupted the otherwise uneventful trip from Point A to Point B.

"Whoa-ho-hey!" One of the punks shouted in a Cockney accent as the old man passed. "You'd better watch out old man, I hear Dr. Kimble's been lookin' for ya."

The man stopped mid-step and turned his attention towards the punks against the wall. Zorin Blitz, however, ignored the event and continued her stride.

"Course I'm pretty sure The Fugitive wasn't a Western."

"Where'd you get the costume anyway?" One of his companions asked. "This is a movie theater, not the O.K. Corral!" There was a small chuckle exchanged among himself and his friends.

"Now, now," the man replied rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "I just got out of a costume party. I would have even made first prize too..." He said raising his right arm, which was missing most of its forearm, "if the bastard going as a ninja hadn't gotten too...in character."

"Sucks to be you."

Surprisingly, the man actually grinned, quite smugly to boot. However, he turned away from the youths, apparently already losing interest in the conversation.

"Oh quite the contrary," he muttered, not caring whether they could hear him or not. "I think I lead an **exciting** life these days."

By the time he turned his attention back to his companion, she already had a substantial lead on him. Not that it mattered. She was going to enter a different theater, hopefully keeping him safely out of harm's way. He'd let her do her business unattended, besides, in case she decided to be discreet, he felt he may as well watch the move he paid for.

The only sound he made was the jingle of the spurs on his boots.

Zorin followed the scent of the one who had killed her. She wanted revenge, and it would be easy, oh so easy. The Hellsing she-vamp wouldn't even see her coming. She was a ghost after all. She was going to sneak up behind the girl and simply tare her head off from her shoulders. At least, that's what Zorin was planing to do, but since when do things ever go according to plan?

* * *

Seras was still trying to enjoy her movie. The only problem was that Pip was getting a little too touchy, feely. Normally Seras didn't mind. In fact, she enjoyed the French ghost's attentions. But it was interfering with her ability to watch the movie. More importantly, they where in a public place, and Seras was worried how far things might go if she just gave in. _We're not a couple of horny teenagers, and what if we were caught? Oh, that's all I need, some movie theater usher catching me in a heavy petting session with empty air._ "Pip, stop."

"Oh come on, Mignonette, I just want to..."

Seras cut him off. "Pip, no."

Pip stared at his girl for a moment. He recognized her expression. Pip let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine." The French ghost pulled his hands away from the Nexus's body and folded his arms across his chest.

Seras looked over at her boyfriend. She could tell he was upset. Seras grabbed one of Pip's arms and put it around her neck, but as soon as she let go, Pip pulled the arm away. "Oh, Pip, don't act like that."

"Don't act like what?"

"A five year old whose just been told he can't have a piece of candy."

"Look, Mignonette, you wanted me to keep my hands to myself." Pip turned to look over at his girlfriend. "So, I'm..." Pip stopped, mid-sentence, as he saw the figure coming up behind his girl. Pip couldn't believe it. He was in shock, but luckily, he was also a veteran mercenary. And when Pip saw Zorin reach for his girlfriend's throat, he reacted instinctively. Pip grabbed Seras and, amidst protests, jerked them both out of their seats and onto the floor.

Seras couldn't believe that Pip had done such a thing. "What the bloody..." Seras lost her voice as she saw Zorin coming towards them.

Pip pulled his pistol. Pip's offensive spirit energy had chosen to manifest itself in the form of a Beretta 92 hand gun and a couple of grenades. He began firing at the other ghost. Zorin's head bucked back as the bullets collided with her face. Having been largely unprepared for the effects of ethereal bullets on her ethereal form, Zorin was driven back, slightly, by the pistol's admittedly mild stopping power.

And of course, with no other Nexi in the theater with them, the audience continued staring intently at the screen (and in some cases, chewing on popcorn or sucking soda out of a straw) and not seeing or hearing a damned thing.

"Mignonette, run for it! I'll catch up!" Pip shouted as he tried to bring himself back on his feet.

"But what about you?" Seras shouted loudly enough to merit a hissing _shush_ from not one, but several people in the two rows in front of hers.

Zorin rubbed her eye as though she was simply suffering a mild migraine, but it gave Pip just a few more seconds to reply.

"I'm already dead, Seras, you're not. Well, not really. I just need to hold her off."

Just as he replied, Zorin used her own spiritual energy to conjure up her familiar oversized scythe. Seras wanted to help Pip but not being a ghost would make fighting in the theater aisles clumsy and awkward. Not to mention the theatergoers...

_The crowd!_ She thought in a sudden terror. She had no way of knowing when Zorin would go intangible, and the collateral damage she created if she didn't go intangible would be like her attack on the Hellsing manor, only even **more **one-sided if that were possible. She either had to draw Zorin away or at least empty the theater, hell, the whole building, before the fight got out of hand.

Then, as Zorin began her advance on Pip, inspiration struck Seras, she immediately dashed out of the aisle and the theater, nearly knocking over an usher who had come over to investigate the ruckus she had been shushed over.

"The bitch leaving you to die again," the tattooed woman queried with a fanged smirk. "Same old Seras Victoria," she pulled her hand away from her face, her eye in mint condition after Pip's attack. "How many Goslings of yours did my men and I kill before she swooped in to save the day?"

"Too many. And, for that, **chienne,** you will pay!"

Zorin laughed. "Spare me the empty threats," she said briefly twirling her oversized scythe. "I'm more interested in seeing how much a ghost can hurt."

Finished with talking, Zorin walked to Pip in a menacing fashion, partly to savor the moment before she swung her scythe at the meddling 'frog'. Victoria may have gotten away, but she knew the otherwise clichéd adage of saving the best for last rang true.

Pip pocketed all but one grenade, pulling the pin out of his thumb, he did not let go of the lever just yet, trying to look for a prime opportunity to maximize the effect of the hand-held explosive. And even as Zorin passed well within the distance from Pip she needed to be, he only stood in place. If he had to 'suicide' bomb her, it would certainly buy Seras that much more time.

Just down the hall from the theater entrance, however, Seras was not simply fleeing the theater. The 'good girl' was too concerned with the lives of the theaters other patrons to just abandon the poor, ignorant boobs to their fate. She had to clear the building!

BREET! BREET! BREET! BREET!

An unbearable buzzing, followed by a slow but rhythmic flash of white lights had the same effect on the theatergoers as throwing a rock at a hornet's nest.

(Well there you have it, the first chapter to the sequel. Please let us know what you think. All comments are appreciated, even negative ones, just so long as they are constructive. No flames please. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	2. So Much for the Movie

**So Much for the Movie**

Jan had comfortably plopped himself in his seat before the movie trailers were half spent. The trailer for Sin City had him even more stoked than before. And while he didn't consider himself a nerd and thought the first two prequels fell flat, Revenge of the Sith's trailer still managed to hold his attention all the way through.

That said, he had just managed to see the opening credits for Constantine when the fire alarm blared through the theater, practically throwing the several dozen men and women gathered in the rows in front of Jan out of their seats. What's more, the projector stopped, Jan couldn't guess why they bothered if the idea of hearing a fire alarm meant you generally **left in a hurry**.

"Aw, Chickenshit! Bullshit! And... Some other kinds of shit! It just started!"

Jan motioned to get up, but then, in a rare moment to the less cultured of the Valentine brothers, he gave some quick logical thought to the events around him. The alarm could have just as easily have been pulled by some dumbass punk kids looking for cheap laughs they couldn't get from actually **shouting** "fire" in the theater, and since the theater logically wouldn't burn down, there'd be no reason to run. And even if it did, Jan had nothing to be worried about, he'd been set on fire by his 'nutzy' bosses, he couldn't be burnt to ash again.

Tolerating the otherwise irritating buzz of the alarm, Jan simply leaned back in his chair and plopped his legs on the head of the seat in front of him.

* * *

"I'm sorry if I'm insulting your taste in cinema, Casper," Captain Jack yelled over the blaring of the alarms, "but I personally find fire alarms this loud to be a bit overbearing, especially if they drown out dialogue like that. The sound expert in this movie mustn't have graduated film school."

"I don't think it's the movie Captain Jack," Casper stated the obvious.

Jack paused, looking around at the flashing lights in the theater as men, women, and children rose from their seats to file out of the emergency exits. He frowned slightly and defensively replied, "I knew that."

"I suppose it would be prudent to look for Pip and Seras, if they haven't fled already." The Grey Prince suggested. "Theater Number 10, I think they went to. Hopefully, we won't interrupt anything the alarms didn't interrupt first." The Grey Prince jollily laughed at his own joke.

The ghostly trio had scarcely gotten out of their seats before Seras herself ran up to them.

"Great minds think alike," Captain Jack quipped. "She found us first."

"Come with me, no time to explain!" Seras said gesturing for the ghosts to follow her out of the theater. Without even asking what was going on, they followed.

"Well she's certainly worked up!" Jack quipped before trying to catch up with the gang.

* * *

The sudden blare of the alarm made Zorin, almost reflexively, stop her attempted assault for a precious couple seconds while she tried figure out what was going on. A quick thinking soldier, like Pip, was able to take advantage of this small window of opportunity before he even knew what he was doing.

Zorin managed to return her attention to the man she had already killed once just in time to feel the green metal of his fragmentation grenade suddenly stuffed in her mouth. If that wasn't enough, the lever, now extending outwards, effectively arming the grenade, jammed into her left eye, causing her to recoil a few steps back.

Wasting no time, Pip leapt away and awaited the satisfying shock of the fragmentation device detonating. The sound of an ethereal body hitting the floor confirmed that his crazy stunt had worked.

Pip looked up over the line of theater seats that he'd dove behind. He saw Zorin's headless body lying on the floor. Pip breathed a sigh of relief and, for a moment, thought that his troubles were over. But then, he noticed glowing energy particles pulling themselves back towards the headless body. They congregated at the top of the neck and began to form a familiar, spherical shape. _Of course. Should've known better. I'm not that lucky. _

Fortunately, **not** being the one who swallowed a grenade gave Pip **much** more time to scramble to his feet. He did just that, then made a beeline for the nearest exit. Pip figured that he'd bought his girl enough time to safely get away. Now he was out of ammo, it would take time for his spirit bullets to restock, and doubted that his explosive meal trick would work again. It was time for him to exercise the better part of valor, and try to get away himself. As Pip reached the exit, he cast an over the shoulder glance back at his enemy. Her face was a mess of glowing ethereal energy, but it was starting to reform into the recognizable butch vampire woman that killed him six years earlier.

Pip ran out of the show room only to collide with Seras and knock them both to the floor. They fell hard, and Pip hit his head at just the right angle to send a stabbing pain through it. He grunted as he rubbed his head. _Should've gone intangible._ Then Pip looked up to see his Mignonette picking her self up from off the floor. "What the... Why are you still here?"

Pip's question came out harsher than he'd intended, and Seras's reply sounded defensive and slightly haughty. "Well, I had to make sure the civilians got out safely."

Pip sighed. _Of course. Should've known my 'good girl' would put the lives of complete strangers above her own. Normally I find her idealism to be endearing, but now... _Pip's thoughts where interrupted by the voice of someone coming up behind him.

"Oh ho! So the spineless Frenchman fancies himself an action hero. I'll give you credit, you have more guts than your countrymen from my day in age...Let's see if they spill as well the second time!"

"Gonna need to see what you're gonna spill, lass!" Another voice called from the butch woman's side.

Zorin quickly turned to the speaker, only to have something pointy once again scrape across her left eye. This time, she reeled as she accidentally gouged it on the tip of an extended cutlass.

"How much of a number does that do on your depth perception, I wonder," asked Captain Jack Sparrow.

Zorin's reply came in the form of her right hand extending forward and bending the blade like silly putty. Jack's smug look quickly shifted into a more worried one.

"I've seen worse cases I suppose," he said as Zorin pulled the sword clear out of his hand.

"Can you manage without both eyes?" She inquired with her frown turning into a sadistic grin.

"Not really, they _are_ particularly useful," he said, giving the barest sideways glance. "They tell me how you're about to go flying..." He stopped as The Grey Prince did a full speed body slam into the butch vampire, and she was quickly knocked across the lobby. "Like so."

After a brief moment, Zorin shook her head. She then rose from the ruined remains of what had once been a 'claw game', colorful stuffed animals sliding off her tattooed body in the process. Zorin let out a snort and again conjured up her spirit scythe. She growled. "I'm going to cut you into so many pieces even the vultures won't bother with you."

"Ho, Ho! A fellow blade enthusiast I see." The Grey Prince let out a hearty laugh before materializing his broad sword and shield. "This is going to be great sport. Too bad no one's betting. It always did add a little something extra to the contest."

* * *

As the two blade masters engaged each other, Jan sat in his seat, impatiently waiting for the 'fire' to be confirmed a fake and the people to file back into the theater to continue the picture as originally planned. However, while the sirens had finally silenced, something was making Jan's wait particularly intolerable.

Some 'fucknut' two rows in front of him was using the opportunity to, of all things, puff the nastiest smelling cigar he'd sniffed since he started hanging around the Hellsing estate.

Now Jan was one for indulging some rather unhealthy addictions in life, but **cheap** cigars wreaked something too harsh for him to handle, and this asshole was going to stink up the place something fierce, to the detriment of the entertainment value of watching Keanu Reeves do Keanu Reeves things.

Naturally, despite how fruitless it was considering the circumstances, Jan responded to the situation the only way he knew how.

"Hey, buttmunch!" he hollered to the sole theatergoer. "If you're blind enough to miss the fucking 'no smoking' signs and too deaf to hear the fucking fire alarms going off, do you _really_ think you belong here?"

There was silence as the man's next drag from the cigar exited his lungs, and he emitted a raspy, gruff laugh.

"Geez, you stuff reefer in that?" Jan huffed. "I ain't exactly the prudest guy on the planet, but fuck! I want to enjoy my movie without getting distracted by all the pretty colors and the damn munchies!"

The man down in front simply tapped his cigar and let the ash fall into his seat's cup holder and, through the holes in it, to the floor. He didn't turn around, but what he did next was unexpected.

"Well," he replied, "are you going to do something about it?"

Jan pulled his legs off their makeshift rest and leaned forward in surprise. _Did this fucking tard just talk back to me?_

Rising to his own feet, the other man pulled out a small, plastic cylinder and slipped the cigar inside before putting a lid on it, ostensibly to save it for later. He then turned to face the youngish ghost.

When Jan realized the man in front of him was looking directly _at_ him, he stood up as well. Getting a good look at the man, he realized he was a white-haired, balding individual in his early sixties. He had a handlebar mustache and a wrinkly forehead on his face. His mode of dress was even more noticeable. It was a brown cowboy style duster with matching pants. His left hand had a red glove on it while his right hand was...not there.

That's what did it for Jan. So far, all the other ghosts he'd seen in his afterlife were 'intact', more or less. He had briefly assumed he was facing some Wild West cowboy until he noticed the man's right arm was gone from the elbow down.

Jan scarcely had time to ponder the implications of this before the man abruptly raised his perfectly intact left arm. The index and middle fingers and his thumbs unfurling to mimic a typical kindergartener's 'handgun' from a playground game of Cowboys and Indians. By the time Jan could react, the 'gun' jerked back.

"Bang!"

Jan paused once again, first confused, then unimpressed. He let his expressions and body language do the talking for a bit. **Just** a bit... "Day-umn old boy! You forget to take your Alzheimer's Medicine?"

The older man gave off only a slight frown, looking away from the ghost gangster to examine his 'gun.' The man opened his hand into an open palm before clenching it into a fist again. A frown briefly crossed his face before being washed away by a smug smile as he turned back to Jan. "So _that's_ how it's gone," he said aloud, not apparently directing the statement at anyone in particular.

"Huh_?"_

"Things just got a whole lot easier." Ignoring Jan, the man slid his remaining hand into his pocket and calmly moved out of the seating rows, into the aisle out of the theater, and cackled lightly.

"What the fuck is going through Fucky Fucktardo's head there?" Jan thought aloud. He was tempted to follow the man but, somehow, felt it would be better to keep his distance.

* * *

Back in the lobby, the Grey Prince was busy proving to the other ghosts just how worthy he was to have once been the Arena Grand Champion. He sidestepped Zorin's direct attacks and blocked her sweeps with an almost graceful agility. The Half-Orc waited, biding his time until the most opportune moment.

The former gladiator's happy attitude and complimentary comments about her fighting technique provoked the Nazi vamp into overextending herself and presenting him with an opening. The Grey Prince, of course, wasted no time in exploiting his opponent's mistake.

In one fluid motion, the Grey Prince power slammed his shield into the enemy and followed up with a sword thrust that pinned the vamp to the wall. Zorin gasped as the ethereal broad sword disrupted the spirit energy in her chest. She tried to pull back and phase through the wall; but the Grey Prince merely grinned, rapped a hand around the butch vampire's head and held her in place while Seras came over and put her hand on the enemy ghost's chest.

"What the Hell! Hey, Frenchy your girlfriend's copping a feel. Didn't know she went both ways."

Seras glared at the Millennium ghost, but didn't bother with a verbal response. Instead she focused her mind on her enemy's spirit energy. She identified the unique energy signature and began to push against it with her mind and feelings. As Seras attempted to block Zorin's 'flow', her mind was filled with the most disgusting thoughts and emotions. She'd thought that the Joker was bad, but this 'woman'... Well, Seras felt like she was going to puke. Still, the young Nexus persevered and was rewarded with a shriek as Zorin vanished away.

Unfortunately, scarcely a moment later, the Millennium vamp reappeared in a different spot in the lobby. She threw herself at Seras and pinned the Nexus to the floor before anyone else could recover from their shock.

Zorin extended her arm and reformed her oversized scythe. Zorin's eyes went red as she began a sweeping motion aimed at decapitating her foe.

Luckily, Seras had recovered from her initial shock. In a rather impressive display of dexterity, the Hellsing vamp quickly brought her legs up, locked them around the ghost vamp's center and pulled the evil bitch off of her. Seras's action gave her own ghosts enough time to regain their senses.

Jack took aim with his buccaneer flintlock; and Pip did the same with his Beretta, his spirit rounds having finally replenished. Both ghost fired, the quick peppering sound of the Beretta being momentarily drowned out by the thunder of the buccaneer flintlock.

Zorin reeled as the bullets ripped into her face, causing much more pain to her already taxed ethereal form than they would've earlier. Seras used the opportunity to slip away from the enemy ghost.

* * *

Inside the Constantine show room, Jan had finally decided that they were not going to resume the movie. _Great, that's just fucking great! _Jan extended his arm and began to individually raise his fingers as he counted off all the things that had gone wrong that night. "One. Stupid kid's movie that completely trashed my image of Vin Diesel. Two. Annoying fire alarm. Three. Even more annoying, insane cowboy wannabe, who actually tried to shoot me with his hand! And Four. No movie!" Jan slumped back down in his seat and let out a sigh. He grumbled, "So much for my night out. Can't even enjoy a Keanu Reeves movie. Arh!" Jan got up and exited the show room. He entered the Lobby, only to see a dead comrade chasing his best buddy around with a giant scythe. _What the Fuck!_

Jan rubbed his eyes in disbelief and then reopened them. Nope, nothing had changed. It was really happening. As Zorin slashed at Pip, Jan couldn't help but shout, "Hey! Did I miss something here?!" Everyone turned to look at the shouting Jan.

Zorin was relieved. She'd never liked Jan, always thought he was an idiot and often told him so. However, at that moment, she didn't care about the younger Valentine's questionable intelligence. She'd taken a heavy beating and was having trouble holding her spirit energy together. Parts of her body were even alternately fading in and out. She would be happy to have a fellow Millennium member's assistance.

Unfortunately for Zorin, Jan wasn't doing much. He just stood there with a stupid expression on his face. Obviously the idiot needed a proverbial kick in the ass. "Well, shit for brains? What are you waiting for?! Help me kill the Bitch!"

Jan grinned. It was an evil, sadistic looking grin. Then he flicked his wrists and produced ethereal replicas of the suppressed FN P90s he'd used in the assault on Hellsing. "You know, right now, I can't think of anything I'd rather do." Jan laughed as he began firing. "Die, Bitch! Die!"

Zorin's smile dropped into an even more shocked expression than Jan had worn a moment before as her former comrade's ethereal automatic weapons' fire tore into her already strained spirit form. Zorin let out a final, shrill shriek as her spirit form reached it's limit, and her ethereal energy was dispersed.

(Well, what'd you think of the second chapter? We hope you enjoyed it. Please let us know. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T. R0bot.)


	3. But it Wasn't Me It was the OneArmed M

**But it Wasn't Me. It was the One-Armed Man.**

Seras was standing in Integra's office. The last of the Hellsings was practically foaming at the mouth. "Exactly what did you think you were doing? We are supposed to be a **secret** organization, and then you and your ghosts pull a stunt like this!" Integra slammed a report down on her desk. "You pulled the fire alarm, demolished the lobby and, according to this, one of the show rooms suffered grenade damage! Why would you even bring a grenade to a movie theater in the first place?!"

"It was a manifestation of Pip's spirit energy." Seras sheepishly replied.

"Oh, honestly, Seras, if you don't get a better hold on your ghosts, I'm going to be forced to seal you up in your cell!"

"Sir, it wasn't my fault. Zorin attacked us." Seras was doing her best to keep from crying. The poor girl's intended romantic night out had turned into a complete disaster, and now her boss was yelling at her and threatening to seal her away for something that really wasn't her fault.

Integra saw Seras sniffle. Sometimes the Hellsing heir forgot just how sensitive the 'Police Girl' was. Integra managed to strain most of the anger from her voice as she asked, "I thought you learned how to deal with unwanted ghosts. Why didn't you just banish her?"

"I tried, believe me. But it didn't work! She just reappeared a second later."

"Well, how did that happen? Didn't you tell me that once you banished a Ghost, they couldn't use you as a nexus anymore?"

"Well, obviously, there must have been a second nexus." Helena was the one who answered, although she knew that Integra couldn't hear her.

Seras turned and looked at the ghost vampire child who'd been her mentor since the whole nexus business started. "Do you know who?"

Helena laughed. "Dear child, how could I possibly know that? I wasn't at the theater, remember?"

Jan's face brightened as he finally made a connection. "I bet it was that fucking cowboy!"

Seras turned to Jan, "What fucking cowboy?"

Integra exclaimed, "Seras?!" Integra wasn't often surprised, but that did it. Never before had she heard the polite Draculina use such language.

"Sorry, Sir, it just slipped out." Seras blushed and grinned sheepishly.

Jan answered. "The fucking moron who tried to shoot me with his fucking hand. I tell you, that guy's a fucking loony! But he could see me, and he wasn't a ghost."

Seras asked, "How do you know that?"

"The fucking loony toon was missing his hand. Missing limbs don't carry over into limbo." Jan held up the arm that Walter had 'detached' in the last minutes of his life to emphasize his point.

Helena cut in. "Wait a minute. The 'cowboy' was missing a hand? Which one?"

Jan thought for a moment. "Uh, right one, I think."

"And he had white hair and a thick, white mustache?"

"Uh, yeah. How did you..."

Helena ignored Jan and turned back to Seras. "I think I know who your second nexus is. Have you ever heard of Ocelot?"

Pip was the first to respond, "Isn't that a kind of leopard?"

Helena rolled her eyes, "Y-e-s, but that is not the Ocelot I was referring too. The **guy** I'm talking about is the former second-in-command of FOXHOUND and before that, an operative for Spetznaz and the KGB"

"The who and the what?" Captain Jack asked.

Helena sighed. "FOXHOUND was a special operations unit founded under the American Central Intelligence Agency in 1971, though like the French and Spanish Foreign Legions, its membership was multinational." She turned to face Captain Jack specifically, "and since you're less likely than anyone else here to know what the other two organizations were, they were the Soviet Union's Special Forces and secret police force respectively."

"Wait a minute, so Zorin's now working for the Americans... Uh, or the Russians; and they want Mignonette dead?" Pip sounded utterly flabbergasted.

"I doubt it. Ocelot's games are never that simple."

"So, what do you think he's up to?" Seras asked.

"What is who up to?" Integra had watched Seras as the young Vampire stared into empty space, spoke to the same, and moved her head around as if trying to hold a conversation with a room full of people. The Police Girl looked like a nut, and Integra had no doubt that under different circumstances the young woman before her would've been institutionalized. However, things were not always as they seemed, and Integra knew that Hellsing's resident nexus was likely gaining important information from her ghosts. So, Integra simply watched and kept silent until she figured it was time for her to be 'clued in' on just what the bloody hell was going on.

Seras turned to her boss. "Sorry, Sir. Helena thinks she knows who the other Nexus is. She says that he's an ex-Russian special operative, called Ocelot."

"Ocelot, huh?"

"You recognize the name?"

"No, but I'll put in a call to MI5 and the SIS. If the guy's an ex-Russian operative, I'm sure they have files on him. Any idea why he'd be working with Zorin's ghost?"

Seras turned to look at Helena who replied, "I'm afraid not. But if it is Ocelot, you can bet he won't stop with Zorin. You are going to need allies to win this 'ghost war'." Helena's hand went up to her chin. "Yes, powerful allies and teachers too. I'll see what I can scrounge up." And with that, the most knowledgeable ghost vanished.

* * *

Integra had calmed down considerably more after Seras had parroted Helena's information to her. The Hellsing heir dismissed her from her office so she could unwind after the night's tumultuous events, though Seras didn't feel any less worried.

Between the prospect of Millennium continuing their pointless war from beyond the grave and the entry of this new player, 'Ocelot', things had become extremely complicated in the last couple of hours. She wanted to rest up for the coming storm that her doomsayer vampire friend warned her about. But the prospect of fighting them again was grim enough to prevent any R&R before they struck again.

Of course, life would throw a less than innocuous distraction her way.

"Biggie Smalls..." Seras heard Casper's voice from the direction of Walter's bedroom. The vampire's head perked up and followed the voice with some hesitance, knowing Walter might not want anyone intruding in his territory.

"Biggie Smalls..." Casper's voice repeated. Seras was now inside the butler's bedroom and could see Casper looking intently into a mirror in front of a short drawer. "Biggie..." he reluctantly began.

"What are you doing, Casper?" Seras asked innocently. To her surprise, Casper jumped as if he had been bitten by an alligator.

"Gah! Seras, don't sneak up on me like that, you almost scared me to..." Casper paused, contemplating his next words. "...Never mind, Jan told me I could summon the ghost of Biggie earlier today and I wanted to try it out."

"Biggie," Seras blinked, not sure she heard that right. "Who's Biggie?"

"Some Rapper Jan told me about," Casper answered with a shrug, he didn't seem to know much more than that.

"That's 'Notorious B.I.G.' to you kid!'" Jan exclaimed as he phased through the bedroom wall, a massive, enthusiastic grin on his face.

"That still doesn't answer my question," Seras said, slightly annoyed by the lack of an immediate answer.

"You know, Biggie Smalls, Frank White, Big Poppa," Jan said before starting a slow hip-hop dance. "**It was all a dream, I used to read Word Up magazine, Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine, Hangin' pictures on my wall!**"Jan's rapping was cut short by Seras' interruption.

"All right, I get it, he's a Hip Hop artist, but what's that got to do with what Casper was doing just now?"

"Jan said that if you looked into a mirror and said 'Biggie Smalls' three times in a row..." Casper answered with a child-like honesty before producing a flashlight with his spirit energy and holding it up to his face like a camper telling a ghost story, "...The call would summon his soul from Hell to kill whoever interrupted his eternal slumber!" Despite Casper's personal aversion to scaring people, he couldn't help follow it up with an ominous "**Oooooh!"**

"'Cept you obviously didn't have the balls to do it, you're scared he really **will** come back and shoot you in the face!" Jan mocked. "'Course, I guess that's to be expected, you probably didn't live long enough for your balls to drop!"

**SMACK!**

Jan's head did a complete 180 degree turn from the Police Girl's overpowered, open-palmed slap.

"Was it something I said," he asked in a slight strangled tone of voice before moving it back in place.

"Jan..." Seras growled, a look of barely contained rage on her face. "That was **beyond** uncalled for." As if to emphasize her point, Casper had a small frown on his place, as if really hurt...but then again, this was Jan, he shrugged that off in a second.

"Oh Puh-leez!" The over-pierced ghost rolled his eyes. "You still let me hang around knowing I've done worse."

Seras' expression was still quite poisonous, but softened ever so slightly. She knew he had a point. The guy did kill a sizeable chunk of Hellsing personnel the first day they met. All things considered, cracking jokes about Casper dying young was probably an **improvement** over his behavior in life.

Of course, Seras wouldn't let Jan off that easily, as she grinned with an unusually wicked idea passing through her mind.

"Well Jan, if you're **really** so much braver than Casper, why don't **you** summon Biggie?" She punctuated her request with a toothy grin.

Indignated, Jan's response took a second to form. "I'll take you up on that, officer!"

Jan quickly pushed his way past the vampire and the young ghost and looked into Walter's mirror with a smile...a smile that faded almost immediately after he looked into it. There was an unexpected pause once the chav had looked in the mirror.

"What are you waiting for Jan," Casper said as his frown replaced itself with a smug grin. "Scared?"

"Oh shut up!" Jan spat with a backward glance at the friendly ghost before looking back into the mirror. "Biggie Smalls..."

A beat.

"Biggie Smalls..."

One more pause until...

"Ugh, you know what, this is stupid! I'm outta here!" Jan phased out of the room in a huff.

"Hmph," Seras smirked. "Guess **his** balls didn't drop either."

"Yeah," Casper chuckled, before a frown of curiosity crossed his face. "But we never did find out if it works."

"Oh don't worry Casper. He's probably just messing with you."

"Eh, you're probably right," Casper said scratching the back of his head. "Though we'd better get out of here, I doubt Walter would like to see you in his bedroom."

"Ah, you're right, might as well head out now."

As they moved for the exit, neither of them noticed the figure hovering outside the window.

* * *

The figure watched the Nexus with the same contempt he gave everyone else he met in his life. He had a **special** hatred for the man who requested that he come here, but the opportunity to kill these mindless insects was too great to pass up. He had been dead for little more than two weeks and already he had grown weary of watching the world go by, not noticing him, and now he had an ample opportunity to lash out again.

But first Hellsing's nexus had to be distracted. Being a vampire meant he could not control her, but he could still make suggestions as long as she was unaware of what he was capable of, and even then, he could still read her mind. He immediately sent such a "suggestion" her way.

* * *

Seras suddenly felt a burst of curiosity overwhelm her senses. She quickly did a backwards glance at Walter's mirror before turning back to Casper.

"You go on ahead Casper, there's something I'd like to do first."

The friendly ghost shrugged and let Seras be. Without a second thought, the vampire fledgling strolled up to the mirror. She took a moment to stare into her reflection. While she never thought of herself as vain, it was a relief that one of the few things about vampires that were far from true was the lack of a reflection. In reality, Seras could see her reflection clear as day, and aside from her red eye coloration and some prominent fangs, she didn't look all that different from when she was alive.

Of course, that wasn't why she was staring into the mirror. She took a deep breath, more to facilitate speech than any need to supply her practically vestigial lungs with oxygen, and spoke.

"Biggie Smalls..." she began with a squeak. She shook her head, chiding herself for her nervousness before moving on. "Biggie Smalls..."

She took another look at herself in the mirror before wincing and closing her eyes.

"...Biggie Smalls!"

Silence.

The undead police officer blinked, hearing nothing.

"Ugh, what was I thinking with-." Seras' embarrassed mumbling was cut off by someone else's voice.

"What the fuck is this?!" A throaty baritone voice blurted from behind her in a mixture of surprise and anger.

Seras did an about-face to see a rather portly looking black man in a black suit, pants, and a yellow shirt examining his surroundings with considerable confusion.

"It worked?" Seras squeaked, just beginning to wrap her mind around what she just did. She wasn't quite sure if this new ghost really had come from Hell as Jan and Casper described, as he didn't look like someone who had been dumped into an escape-proof Lake of Fire.

"Aw Hell naw, this only happens with a bunch of punk kids on Halloween!" The man exclaimed, his outrage steadily ramping up. "It's the middle of March!"

"Um, sir..." Seras began before the man threw a deadly glare in her direction.

"Don't 'sir' me, ho!" The man said as a handgun materialized in his right hand. "I have a round of Poker with Satan and Tupac in twenty minutes and I ain't gonna miss it 'cuz of you!"

"I'm sorry! I honestly didn't think it'd work!" Seras defended herself futilely as the rapper's gun rose to meet her face.

"Bitch! That excuse stopped working a long time ago!"

Seras shrieked as she ducked away from a bullet that smashed Walter's mirror. Despite the close quarters she was in, Biggie proved to have all the marksmanship of an Imperial Stormtrooper (no doubt due to the fact that he was holding his gun sideways, 'gangsta' style). Even so, Seras had no desire to stand still and be Swiss-cheesed by an angry rapper and double-timed it out of the room.

* * *

Again, neither Biggie, nor Seras noticed the gas-masked specter hovering outside Walter's bedroom window.

"Good little girl..." the man wheezed through his mask. "...just like that."

With the nexus occupied, the ghostly psychic moved on to his main objective...decapitate Hellsing's leadership, and with it, their trump card.

* * *

Helena made her way through the underground labyrinth that was Offenbach Castle. Here there resided a powerful spirit, one who had experience fighting Nazis. In life, as a mere human, the ghost she was searching for had killed nearly as many Nazis as Alucard. In death the 'man' would be just as capable, perhaps more so. For a ghost's strength came from its spirit, its force of will; and William 'B.J.' Blazkowicz had possessed an almost indomitable will.

Helena floated past a patrol of mutants, three armed ghouls that the Nazi's had experimented with early in their undead program. They couldn't see her. Hans Grosse, on the other hand, could.

"What are you doing in the Castle? We already have enough ghosts!" The ghost, who had been a Nazi prison guard in life, hefted his twin chain guns at the small figure before him. Helena smiled and a beam of white light shot out of her back. It turned, looped around and impacted the giant German ghost, sending him flying into the far wall. Hans shook his head to clear it. He began to pick himself back up. "If it's a fight you want..."

"Relax. I'm not here for you. Frankly you are beneath my notice except for the fact that you might be able to speed my search. I'm looking for the ghost of the man who killed you."

"You going to floor him too?" Hans scoffed, but pointed Helena in the correct direction anyway. As Helena hovered away, Hans added, "I hope you have more luck than I did."

Having been pointed in the right direction, it did not take Helena long to find the one she sought. "B.J. Blazkowicz, it has been a long time."

B.J. looked up from an ancient dish of food that he'd been shoveling down his throat. The WWII ghost soldier wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Helena! What are you doing here?"

"I've been searching for you. You discovered two natural Nexus places in life, I checked Hitler's bunker first. Then I came here."

"What do you want with me? You're interrupting my dinner."

Helena floated over and looked at the dish of 'food' B.J. had been eating. "Hmm, clearly a tasty meal." She said sarcastically.

"Well, after thirty-seven years, there's not much left in the castle. Dog food beats eating nothing at all."

"Yes, I suppose it would." Helena smiled. "What would you say if I told you there was a living Nexus who needed allies and, if you helped her out, you could stay in a comfortable mansion with a regularly restocked refrigerator?"

"I'd say, 'Define helped out.' What must I do to earn my keep?"

"Why the thing you were best at in life, of course. This Nexus is going to be fighting an army of Nazi ghosts soon. She will need allies to gain victory."

"In that case, I say forget about it." B.J. scooped out another handful of dog food and brought it up to his mouth.

"You'd rather continue like this?"

B.J. didn't bother to swallow his food before answering. It rolled around in his mouth; producing a disgusting sight and making even the blood sucker turn a little green. "In life I killed over a thousand of those murdering bastard elitists, and what did I get for my trouble? For all the lives I took, I was sent to limbo when I died. For thirty-seven years I have borne my punishment. I only have five more to go, and I'm not about to risk that in another war."

Helena chuckled lightly. "Only forty-two years? God must've looked kindly on you. I've got over ten times that long to serve."

"Well, I never did drink anyone's blood, just spilled it."

"I see." Helena turned and began to float away. She paused. "Shame though."

"What?" B.J. growled.

"It seems that in death they were finally able to do to you what they could not in life. They finally broke your will. I guess I was wrong to seek you out. It seems you would not be much help anyway." There was a clank sound as B.J.'s dog dish flew through Helena and impacted the stone wall in front of her."

"No one has broken my will!"

Helena turned. "Oh, no? Look at yourself, sulking in a castle dungeon, eating dog food while you patiently wait for your sentence to end. Is this the same man who escaped Castle Wolfenstein, stopped the Nazi's plan to put mutant zombies on the front line, defeated the Nazis time and again and finally, personally killed their Fuehrer? Is this the same man who was awarded the Medal of Honor, twice? An obedient dog? I think not."

Helena stared at B.J. He was panting hard. His eyes had a red tint to them, and he had summoned his own chain gun. Helena was briefly concerned that she might have gone too far, might have pushed the man a little too hard. However, after a moment, the red tint faded and a toothy grin spread across B.J.'s face. "A comfortable mansion with a fully stocked fridge, huh? Well, maybe I could be convinced to 'cry havoc and let lose the dogs of war' one more time." _Besides, how much trouble can I get into for fighting ghosts? They're already dead. It's not like I'm going to be killing them again._

(Well, what'd you think of the third chapter? We hope you enjoyed it. Please let us know. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T. R0bot.)


	4. Life After Death

**Life After Death**

AN: This chapter brought to you by Crow T. R0bot. Betaed by Metropolis Kid.

Walter had already informed Integra that MI5 and the Special Intelligence Service (sometimes erroneously called MI6, a name it hadn't officially gone by since the First World War) were digging up all they could about this "Ocelot" character and his association with the organizations Seras mentioned. However, until the information came in, Integra couldn't do much other than finish up some paperwork before she retired for the night.

Integra had just made the last stroke, to complete her signature on an order for more silver bullets, when an unexpected melody hit her ears.

She said nothing, but her reaction was immediate. A rather unearthly... **ghostly** hymn had permeated her office space, and it didn't seem to be coming from any one direction.

"Alucard," she muttered, "If you want to say something, you don't have to make a production out of it."

When she got no reply, verbal or otherwise, she focused on the environment around her. Her pet monster didn't seem to be anywhere in the immediate vicinity. She considered the possibility that one of Seras's ghosts was up to this stunt, but so far, they hadn't been able to make any noise that didn't require them to throw objects around.

"You can't hide. Whoever you are..." Integra said with a degree of impatience. To emphasize that she meant business, she reached for her sword and slowly slid it out of its scabbard.

It was almost free before clattering harmlessly to the floor. Integra would have maintained her grip on it if she hadn't brought her hands up to her head as a drilling pain bore into her cranium.

She dropped to her knees as she felt her head ablaze. Her skull felt like someone was driving a railroad spike into it. She felt the strength in her limbs draining away like water out of a bathtub. It didn't feel like she was weakening herself, it was more like someone was trying to **wrest** her control away from her.

Imaginary hooks attached to imaginary wires seized Integra's limbs. Her own control would have already been cut off if not for her nearly indomitable will. But she still fought a losing battle against whatever malevolence was commandeering her mind. Soon her very will would just be a puppet to the force seizing it.

Even now, as her breathing turned to gasps, she knew just who to call.

"Al..." she wheezed before taking a deeper, barely controlled breath. "**Alucaa—rd!"**

She collapsed, the last of her mind seized. The only thing Integra heard as she blacked out completely was a hissing, deep breathing, that sounded rather like a poor man's 'Darth Vader'.

"Thanks for calling him..." It breathed. "I'll take it from here."

Jarred awake from his slumber, the No-Life King himself rose through the floor to see his master collapsed on the ground. However, not a single word escaped his lips before she started moving again.

"Master?" He asked quietly. It was a rare sight to see Alucard showing concern for anyone around him, indeed, any truly 'human' behavior seemed almost out of character for the psychotic vampire.

Alucard motioned to help his master up, but she held out her hand in a 'stop' gesture. "I'm fine, Alucard." Integra said in a subdued and uncharacteristically stoic voice.

Alucard wasn't too sure about the truthfulness in Integra's answer, but he let her pick herself up. His master wasn't one to expect someone to throw their coat over a patch of mud so she could walk over it. She'd damn well wade through five feet of mud to get somewhere she wanted to go, so he let her continue to live up to that image.

Alucard's face changed to a small frown. His master's movements alone told him something was wrong with her. There was a slight jerk to her movements as she rose to the ground, and they seemed too unnatural, too inhuman to be done by herself. The way her upper body slouched forward at first, even when she was rising from her knees onto her feet didn't seem to be in line with gravity's effects on human anatomy.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say one of his fledgling's ghosts was probably going to cop a feel to pull her up and hoped he wouldn't notice. He'd have to have a word with the Police Girl soon, but frankly, watching his master move around like a marionette demanded a lot more thought and attention than Hellsing Manor's etheric residents being naughty.

He was so entranced by this occurrence, that he never even noticed the same ominous hymn that Integra heard before she collapsed.

Of course, the much louder and immediate sounds of the Police Girl's panicked screams proved most distracting.

"Jan, you were right, NOW TELL ME HOW TO SEND HIM BACK!" He could hear her cry, her rambling accompanied by loud footsteps, like she was running from something. He turned around for a better look but the door to the office was shut, and he could only hear Seras' footsteps. _No doubt Police Girl has finally found 'the wrong crowd' among the dead._

This distraction was short lived. Alucard had only taken one step toward his fledgling's shouting before he felt Integra's hands gently grab his shoulders.

"Alucard," she said softly. "Do you..." she seemed to either hesitate or let her words sink in. "...like me?"

What kind of question was that? Alucard gave a slight grin as he replied. "What's not to like about you, Master?"

"No," she said, sounding like Alucard was completely missing the point. "Do you...**like** me?"

"Hmm?" Alucard wasn't sure he understood the question. He probably would have gotten what she meant had she been any **other** woman, but this was Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. She was her own chastity belt.

However, without taking her hands off the No Life King, Integra slowly circled around Alucard's towering form, slowly dragging her hands across his suit. They drifted over his shoulders, caressing his arms, and pressed gently against his chest.

"I **want** you Alucard...I **need** you!" she said with an unexpected rasp. "Please..." Her arms steadily wrapped around him in a lover's embrace. "...**hold me!"**

What was this? His Master was **coming on** to him? Alucard blinked as she moved one of her arms to gently pull off his fedora and then flicked off his sunglasses. It was certainly not every day someone mesmerized the King of Vampires. It was usually the other way around.

Despite this fantasy coming true, even a Monster from the Id like Alucard, knew something was most definitely wrong. If something was too good to be true, it probably was.

"Master," he began, his tone becoming more interrogative, a tone he seldom took with his master. "What's gotten into you?"

She didn't seem to notice his question, her hands steadily making their way downwards, to his waist.

"Please..." she said with a contented shiver in her speech. "I **want you** Alucard... Please, **make love to me!"**

All right, that was very definitely something Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing would never say, even if it were some incantation that would destroy every Hellspawn and Iscariot goon in existence. Still, a not so small part of him was so eager to jump at the Hellsing heir's invitations, that he didn't notice her left hand straddle the Casull's holster.

With the speed of a rattlesnake, Integra pulled the super pistol free of its holster and jumped back a body length from the No Life King. Even he took a step back in shock from this development, reflexively unholstering the Jackal in kind. It was just a few inches short of lining up with its target before Alucard relented. He had taken longer than he wanted to in order to remember **who** he was about to aim at.

The gun was too heavy for her, so her arms dangled uselessly towards the floor with the lighter of his two guns in hand. However, rather unexpectedly, the Casull jerked around in her hands like something was trying to pull it from her grasp. He surmised that Seras' ghost friends had saw what was happening and were trying to wrestle it from her grasp before she did anything foolish.

Instead, it seemed that whoever...or whatever, was tugging at the gun, it wasn't trying to free it from Integra's grasp. In fact, as if a string were attached to the Casull, it seemed to lift itself **for** her as her arms dangled limply while her hands retained a firm grip on it the whole time.

Even then, however, Integra's lustful tirade continued.

"Alucard...please...I need you...**inside me**!"

Oh Alucard was going to go inside her all right...Inside her mind that is. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Integra was being mind-controlled now, and he immediately used their link to trace the source.

Of course, the moment Alucard even got a peak into Integra's mind; he winced as something else fought back. He felt the same sensation a human eating ice cream too quickly got, only a thousand fold worse. It was like being punched in the face from the inside. His first response was a face monstrously contorted with anger as he watched 'Integra' clumsily step towards him. The Casull shook and wavered in her hands, but at this range, she'd still be able to get a clean shot at him.

"**No peaking!"** She said, the lust in her voice overpowered by a chiding tone used by mothers on children who tried to get an early look at their Christmas presents.

"Who are you, **really?!"** He roared with anger whatever entity was speaking through Integra.

All he got was a smug smirk and a snide remark. For a moment, it sounded like Integra's voice was being filtered through a gas mask.

"What's the matter? **You don't like girls?!"**

Seras was thankful, not for the first time, that being undead meant she didn't have to stop to catch her breath. Hot on her heels was a bloodthirsty East Coast Rapper **literally** from Hell, and apparently her summons had taken time out of his busy schedule. Apparently this was grounds for "getting a cap busted up her ass."

"Jan, you were right, NOW TELL ME HOW TO SEND HIM BACK!" Seras yelped as she ducked another bullet. Being a vampire meant she could outrun the tubby human ghost fairly easily, but the narrow hallways gave her little room to maneuver; and Biggie was relentless.

She made a sharp right turn around the hallway and into a well-furnished break room used by off-duty officers. There were coffee tables, fancy couches and chairs, lamps, curtains, even a bookcase by the wall.

"Bitch! I'ma smack you so hard, this country's gunna move a whole time zone to the west!"

Now with a prompt to move, Seras realized she had only seconds before Biggie was on top of her again. Her eyes darted around the room, nowhere to hide that she could see. The curtains, the bookcase, the lamp, the couch...wait, that's it!

Seven seconds later, Notorious B.I.G. himself materialized through the doors Seras had barged through in her dash to escape the gangsta's brimstone charged wrath.

"You can't hide from me, ya fuckin' ho!" Biggie warned as he meandered about the room. The woman who summoned him was nowhere in sight, but all the hiding places in this room were easily undone.

"Could you be...**here?!**" He said as he emptied a Glock into the bookcase. There wasn't even a whimper. That was a bust.

"Maybe...**here?!"** He bellowed as, ironically, the windows shattered as he fired several rounds at each curtain in front of them.

Dissatisfied, Biggie kneeled as quickly as his girth allowed and checked under the coffee table and the couches. No luck. That bitch had vanished into thin air.

"Aw fuck this, might as well see if I can't get back down there on my own!"

With a huff, Biggie turned around...and found a Beretta M9 pressed into his chest, with an indignant Frenchman on the other end.

"I'd be happy to give you an express ticket, Monsieur Smalls."

"Aw, hell..." Biggie muttered in frustration, "not agai-..." was all Biggie managed to say before blood and bits of bone sprayed out of his back in four consecutive streams.

The rapper unceremoniously slumped to the floor.

"Well," Jan said pacing up from behind his friend. "At least we know **one** of the jackasses who wasted Biggie now."

Pip wasn't so sure, the man was still, but nothing happened to his body like Zorin did.

"Say, where's Mignonette?" Pip asked. The only reply he got was someone loudly clearing their throat.

Both ghosts found themselves turned to the tall decorative lamp near the couch...A lamp with an unusually feminine and busty figure standing upright, hands at side, a vaguely police-like uniform, and some unmistakably well-endowed...assets, topped off with a lampshade.

"I am thoroughly ashamed this worked." Seras' voice grumbled from underneath the shade.

"At least you can think on your feet," Pip said in a subtly congratulatory tone.

Seras quickly removed the ridiculous lampshade from her head and glared at Jan. "**Never** share any of your ghost stories again, Jan!"

"Hey, I didn't look in the mirror!"

"And you ain't gonna want to look into a mirror when I'm through with you, Po-Po bitch!" Biggie's voice rang from behind them. All three turned to see the rapper rise off the floor. His wounds didn't heal, but he didn't seem worse for wear.

Jan summoned one of his FN P90s in a heartbeat, and Pip 'upgraded' his M9 into a Benelli M4 Super 90 shotgun just as quickly.

"Seras, make a run for it, we'll hold him off!"

"All right!" Seras shouted...but she had only taken one step before it hit her.

_Wait a minute...__**What**_ _am I afraid of again? _Seras wanted to smack herself for not realizing it sooner.

"On second though Pip," She said marching between her two friends. "I think I can handle this."

"But Mignonnette, he'll-..." Pip's reply was cut off as a 9x19 millimeter round penetrated his girlfriend's forehead...

...and she continued her walk as her head righted itself from the momentum of being pushed back.

"The fuck is this? Crystal Meth can't numb a headshot!" He began to pepper Seras with a steady stream of bullets, a rather fruitless action as she simply shrugged off the assault until she was face to face with the rapper.

He could see the blood that spilled from her with each bullet crawling back **into** the wounds he made before they closed. The unflinching, evil smile on her face morphed into a much perkier one, but that only meant the worst was yet to come.

Seras raised her hand just an inch from the rapper's head; giving him a second to focus on it before she used the same "aggressive persuasion" she gave Pip to convince him vampires were real.

"Aw fuck me."

The entire top half of Biggie's head popped off with a spray of blood and gray matter. His body dissolved into an evil smoking mist before it had hit the floor.

Pip and Jan could only blink, there was only silence.

"I feel kind of silly now." Seras muttered as she turned around, seemingly unfazed by the incident. "Me, afraid of some wannabe thug, it's like I forgot I was a vampire."

"Forgot it so badly you missed that creepy music?" Jan butted in.

"What creepy mu-..." Seras stopped as she listened. The scuffle she had drew so much of her attention, that only now she noticed the dark hymn resonating through the halls of the mansion.

BLAM!

Seras jumped at the familiar staccato of her master's Casull going off. "That sounded like it was coming from Sir Integra's office!"

"What the hell could Alucard be shooting at?" Pip wondered aloud as he, Jan, and Seras made a dash for Integra's study.

Mantis smiled under his mask as the first bullet nearly tore the No Life King's right arm off at the shoulder. Thanks to the explosive nature of the rounds in the overgrown pistol, his arm was dangling by a strip of flesh and muscle that used to be part of his arm pit. Its regeneration was slowed thanks to the blessed silver of the bullet that hit it, but it was regenerating before his eyes nonetheless.

Integra was serving him quite well too, though he did need to strain a little to make sure the Casull's recoil didn't tear her arms off yet. She may have surrendered her body, but she was still hiding valuable secrets that would take some time to access thanks to her willpower. Until then, he was content to watch the Nosferatu stand helpless against his mind-controlled master.

He felt the minds of three spirits, all of them varying degrees of dead, coming his way. He was able to instantly identify one of them. His diversion hadn't lasted as long as he hoped, but he already had satisfactory control of the situation.

Even as the doors slammed open, he ignored them in favor of continuing his sick game, and chuckled lightly as Integra fired another shot and stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto her butt from the recoil before he used telekinesis to get her standing again. The only thing that would have made the scene perfect if the bullet had landed an inch lower on Alucard's body, right on the family jewels.

He could even feel the No Life King's masochistic tendencies struggling against an uncharacteristic show of restraint. He could tell that this monster typically got a sick thrill from getting parts of his body blown to pieces by enemy and angry master alike, but considering the circumstances, that rush wasn't there. It was magnificent.

"Master, Sir Integra, what's going on?!" Seras yelled over the intermittent gunfire.

"You tell me, Police Girl," Alucard hissed. Being shot at by his suddenly slutty and trigger-happy master and not being able to do a thing about it made the No Life King snippy, to say the least.

Seras turned her attention from her master to her boss just in time to see the knight wheel around and swing the Casull in her direction. Seras was only able to comprehend just what was happening when one of the explosive silver bullets brushed her ear and blew a fist-sized hole in the wall behind her. Once again, the force nearly sent the shooter flying backwards, only to be 'cushioned' by a force Seras couldn't readily see.

Noticing the awkward time 'Integra' was having steadying herself after that disorienting shot. Seras wasted no time. She knew her master wouldn't take kindly to it and there was a very real risk that she'd end up in the Jackal's iron sights for her stunt, but Integra was being a danger to everyone, herself included.

She closed the distance as Integra struggled to move the Casull into position. By the time she was pointing it in a way that could be at least debatably identified as 'straight,' Alucard's fledgling had circled behind her and, to her master's anger, smashed her elbow into the back of Integra's head.

Seras thought her stunt hadn't worked at first as Integra's body wavered another three seconds. She readied herself for another blow, but it proved unnecessary as Integra toppled to the floor, dropping her master's gun.

"All right master, I've brought her down, now let's find out what-..." Seras ended her semi-casual SitRep when, true to her prediction (and her horror) she felt the Jackal's barrel suddenly pressed into her cheek.

"If you had just let her empty her gun I would have figured something out!" Alucard growled, the anger in his voice was even more prominent than it had been before.

"B-But master!" Seras gulped. "You knew something was wrong as well as I did. I worked with what I had!"

"You'll need a better reason than that if you don't want a crash-course review of your regeneration abilities!"

Seras was just about to reply when she saw Integra's dropped sword shake and rise into the air behind her master. To her shock, no one was holding it. Were her Nexus abilities slipping?

"**Look at me Police Girl!**" Her master roared.

It had virtually the opposite effect. Seras did a diving roll away from him. The surprise gave Alucard just enough pause to see Integra's blade pop out of his chest in a bloody splatter. It was so forceful that he had to take a step forward to maintain his balance. Shrugging it off, he turned to see his fledgling recover from her jump. If she hadn't moved out of the way, the blade would have caught both of them in the heart.

"Master, I have no idea what's going on, but take Sir Integra and get out of here!"

Alucard's frown persisted. Between her perceived aggressions and telling him what to do, he was tempted to use her head as a piñata.

Fortunately, reason triumphed and, without even bothering with the blade. Alucard leapt to his master's body and phased both of them through the floor back to his dungeon.

With Integra's life safe for the moment, Seras scanned the room for the perpetrator of this act and moved back to the center of the room.

"Do you see anyone here?" Seras asked Pip and Jan. The duo had zoned out watching the events unfold and the snapback to reality gave Seras her answer.

"No, but that music's giving me the chills!" Jan pointed out. Indeed, the eerie song still crept through everyone's ears.

"Well it has to be coming from somewhere," Seras remarked, she didn't quite notice her companions jump as they saw a fourth figure descend from the ceiling and hover just a few inches above and behind the Hellsing agent.

"Uh, Mignonnette." Pip gulped.

"What's wrong," Seras asked, turning towards Pip, the figure quickly moving in kind to stay out of her sight.

Both ghosts remained silent but raised their pointer fingers to gesture behind Seras. To complement their subtle 'hints,' she could hear a heavy, filtered breathing sound...way too close for comfort.

She slowly turned around, only for Pip and Jan to watch the new ghost expertly hover to her opposite side. Still hearing the breathing, she turned into _that_ direction, only for the apparition to repeat its movements. This went on with greater rapidity until the ghost got bored.

The man slipped up on purpose. Much screaming ensued once Seras found her face an inch from a black gas mask.

The vampire scrambled backwards, struggling to stay balanced as she put some distance between herself and the ghost. The ghost, likewise, simply hovered away, not at all perturbed by its discovery.

The first thing Seras did when she regained her composure was get a good look at the new phantom. He was a rather sickly, barely human figure dressed in a leather BDSM bodysuit and combat boots, and arm length leather gloves with several exposed fingers on each hand. He had a skeletal, almost anorexic figure, as the outline of his rib cage was visible through the leather top he wore, and his thin spindly arms looked like they'd just barely be strong enough to hold a paper weight. The gas mask hid his face, but through its straps, Seras could see patches of skin on the man's head that were criss-crossed with various stitching and surgical scars. Even with her superior sight, she could barely see the cold and sadistic eyes through the bright orange eye pieces on his mask.

Seras immediately moved to interrogate, though she hadn't expected the exchange to go as it did.

"Who-..."

"-am I?" The ghost finished for her, his already raspy voice given a sinister filter through his gas mask.

"What were you-..."

"-Doing with Sir Integra?"

Seras blinked, "How are you-..."

"...finishing your sentences?" The ghost finished for her once again. "That is my power, I am a telepath...or should I say 'was?'"

_Another one?_ Seras thought, bemoaning the revelation. _What, is Zorin not good enough for them now?_

"Don't compare me to that muscle-brained whorebag!" the apparent S&M freak hissed through his mask. "Her powers are parlor tricks compared to mine!"

Seras opened her mouth, surprised that Mantis heard her thoughts despite his revelation. Before she could form words, however, Mantis spoke again.

"You need not waste time with words, Miss Victoria. I can read you like an open book." Mantis hovered slightly lowered. "You need not ask, I'll tell you, my real name is meaningless. You can call me..." he paused for theatrical flair, "...**Psycho Mantis!**"

With that announcement, Mantis hovered over Seras and placed himself in the center of the room, hovering a few feet off the floor. The other three spectators held their ground, but didn't seem impressed.

"Oh give her some credit. You know she'd break you like a pretzel, you're a fucking stick!" Jan exclaimed as his beloved P90s materialized in his hands once more. "Tell you what; I'll re-kill you so you don't have to let her do it!"

"Don't waste your energy," Mantis cautioned. "I can just dod-..." He was cut off as he swerved away from the wall of bullets sent his way.

"What the," Pip asked, raising his own gun, "how'd he-?" Pip never finished his question before he was pulled to the floor, the weight of his spiritual Beretta pulling him down. He struggled to pull it back up, but the pistol had somehow gotten five hundred pounds heavier.

"Pip what's wrong?!" Seras asked in worry. Her apprehension had taken her eyes off Mantis, but mercifully, the psychic made no move to attack.

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" Mantis said drawing the vampire's attention back to him. "It's all..." he trailed off for a moment to tap his temple "...in his head. I should know, I put 'it' there!"

Seras attempted to speak again, but once more, was cut off as Mantis predicted her question. "Yes, I said before, I _am_ psychic. And I'll be happy to provide a free demonstration."

Mantis' is three opponents remained silent, all in quiet agreement to give him the benefit of the doubt. He smirked and went to work, extending his arms and slowly waving them about, as if they somehow aided his reading. He shook his head and jerked it back as his powers exerted themselves into the world around him...and beyond.

"You're one of the better writers I've seen, even if your work is not Pulitzer material. Your early fics leave a lot to be desired though. For God's sake you wrote them in _script_ format!" Mantis' tone shifted into something slightly more encouraging, if facetious. "However, your later writings have improved immensely, and you have an unusual talent for crossovers, even ones that involve more than two fandoms..." Mantis trailed off as if noticing a big ugly mole on a supermodel's face. "Wait, 'Paladin **Verses** the Bat'?" He shook his head, "forget I said anything."

Seras, Pip, and Jan all exchanged confused looks. While they all seemed aware by now that Mantis was exactly what he claimed to be and _was_ reading someone's mind, they were pretty certain it wasn't theirs.

"Now I will read more deeply into your **psyche!**" The masked telepath growled. He brought his arms forward, shaking vigorously as his mind exerted itself more.

"I see you frequent fanfiction dot-net," Mantis noted. "You wouldn't happen to enjoy Japanimation, would you? I don't need to read your mind to tell you like **Hellsing****.**" His search continued.

"Hmm, you seem to like faux-anime as well..." Mantis commented pretentiously, "...Do you get a kick out of Teen Titans and Avatar: the Last Airbender**, **by any chance?"

Mantis held his arms at his side and extended them as if stretching after rising out of bed in the morning. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to his movements, but he continued his reading.

"I can see you're quite religious too..." he said, his tone not shifting. "I didn't know they had Bible fiction on here, I figured you'd think it be too blasphemous for that sort of thing to exist."

Mantis then crossed his arms, as if trying to think of that **one** last thing that would clinch the act. As if he needed any more proof at this point.

"Uh-huh, you like FOX's lineup too I take it..." He said nodding, as if he had found an understanding with the person whose mind he was reading. "You're fond of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, aren't you? Did you hate Terminator 3 as much as I did?"

But even with that one, Mantis just noticed one more thing.

"Ah, a patron of the comics I see, a fan of Superman and DC Comics in general..." Mantis said quite smugly. "Though to tell you the truth, I'm more of a Marvel kind of guy."

And then, Casper wandered in, eyes and hands glued to a Game Boy Advance. He was so absorbed in a game of Super Mario Advanced 4, that he didn't notice the masked freak in the room.

"You there!" Mantis shouted, knocking Casper out of his reverie. He jumped upon noticing the imposing leather clad ghost in the center of Integra's office.

"Put down your Game Boy, slowly..." He ordered.

"You'd better listen to him Casper," Pip warned. "He means business."

Taking a quick glance at the psychic, Casper gulped and took Pip's warning to heart. He cautiously lowered his game to the floor.

"Lay it down as **flat** as you can." Mantis instructed, his tone hushed, relaxing, but insistent. The Game Boy found itself neatly against the floor.

"Good..." Mantis hissed with satisfaction. "Now...I will move your game with the **power of my will alone!**"

In one fluid motion, Mantis thrust his right arm forward, and the Game Boy rattled on the floor. A stroke of his left arm saw the handheld spin in place.

"Wow, that's it?" Jan mumbled unimpressed. "Talk about weak sauce."

Taking only the briefest glances at Jan before focusing on the 'coup de grace**'**, Mantis thrust both his arms forward simultaneously for one last push...

...and sent the Game Boy flying across the room and into Jan's still tangible face. He stumbled clutching his face while sputtering incoherent and unrepeatable curses about Mantis' mother before turning his guns on the psychic soldier once more. However, the spot where he stood was now unoccupied.

"Jan, Pip, watch out!" Seras warned. The two turned around just in time to see Mantis floating behind them. One thrust of his arms sent them both flying.

"Casper, get the Grey Prince and then look for Master and Sir Integra, keep an eye on them if in case this guy tries anything funny!"

"Right!" Casper shouted before retreating through the wall he'd emerged from.

"The demonstration is over," Mantis rasped. "Let the game begin!"

Seras may have not had her Harkonnen with her, but she stood her ground as she came eye to eye with the bloodthirsty telepath. Burning ozone overwhelmed her nostrils as fire erupted around him. He once again swung his hands and sent streaks of flame flying narrowly past Seras, but despite her fear, she stood strong.

She wouldn't let this 'psychic' scare her. She killed one before, she'd be able to get around this 'human' psychic...

Right?

(Well, we hope you enjoyed this latest chapter of insanity. Please let us know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Crow T. R0bot and Metropolis Kid.)


	5. Psycho Mantis

A/N: This is Crow here saying that anyone not familiar with Metal Gear Solid 1 to take this with a grain of salt. I'm taking some slight liberties with how extensive Mantis' powers are, under the assumption that he was holding back against Snake for reasons those who have played the game should understand if they give some thought, thanks.

PS. This chapter co-written by Crow T. R0bot and Metropolis Kid.

**Psychotic Mantis Episode**

For lack of any better ideas, Seras charged headlong at Mantis, who remained stationary as she approached. He was unarmed, but streaked away from the vampire. He moved towards the opposite end of the room, towards a wall lined with portraits of the three previous Hellsing heads. She gave chase, but it proved to be a mistake.

With one gesture, the paintings flipped off their hooks and twirled through the air at Seras. Wasting no time, Seras threw herself on her back just in time to let the wayward paintings fly over her. She sprung back to her feet to continue her charge, but had only moved two steps before the paintings boomeranged back at her, sending her stumbling as they moved back to the wall.

However, Seras got back to her feet and glared at the insolent psychic. At once her left arm melted into an elongated black blob and proceeded to do what she did best to more powerful opponents. Unfortunately, the moment she motioned to ensnare Mantis in it, he simply flew out of the way, not wanting to risk having his soul becoming a vampire's meal by going intangible instead.

"It's useless!" He sneered as he kinetically raised a bust of Abraham Van Helsing himself and flipped it on its side. It accelerated to thirty miles an hour almost instantly and Seras scarcely had time to move out of the way. It managed to brush past her rib as she dodged, but didn't seriously injure her.

Pip was the first to recover from the flight Mantis had sent him on earlier. He righted himself just in time to see the still airborne stone bust flying his way.

"Nice try," Pip said as he stood in place, smirking as the carving of Abraham Van Helsing's head sailed through his intangible body.

"Yes, nice try indeed," Mantis hissed as he held his hands about a foot apart. The air between them seemed to warp, darken, and distort as they steadied. It only took a few seconds before he flung it like an airborne bowling ball.

Pip turned his attention to the strange blurry blob in the air just in time to feel the force of a Mack Truck ramming him in the face. He was still intangible so he accidentally phased through the floor when he flew back.

Seras tried to take advantage of Mantis' small victory by doing a jumping kick at his masked face, but instead of dodging, the telepath simply held out his hand and sent an instantly conjured blast of fire directly into the Hellsing operative's face. Only then did he fly out of her way and watch gleefully as her panicking, burning form slammed into the wall behind her. A wheezy, evil laugh erupted from his throat as gravity had its way with Seras and sent her blazing form tumbling to the floor.

He had just finished in time to weave between a wall of bullets, courtesy of Jan's sub-machine guns. Looking to see him behind Integra's desk, Mantis retaliated by flinging the same telekinetic blast at Jan that he threw at Pip. Jan, however, proved to be much more agile and flipped over the desk as the pulse smashed Integra's chair to splinters.

"Just cuz' I can't touch you doesn't mean you can touch me, Psycho Faggot!" Jan taunted.

"Now, now, don't get so full of it!" Mantis countered. "I think an upstart punk like you could use a lesson in **humility!**" His mask's eye pieces burned from a dull orange to a blinding green glow. "Have some **Green Electric Death!**"

The leather-clad man brought his arms forward as the same glow in his eyes appeared around them. Before Jan knew what was going on, he felt a whole Megawatt of green lightning burn through every fiber of his ectoplasmic being. On top of that, the gunpowder in his spirit bullets, in line with their physical counterparts, exploded while still in their clips, turning both of Jan's weapons into scrap metal and burning his hands further. When it was over, Jan looked like he had walked through a wall of fire.

"...High wind advisory in effect for Liverpool until 3 AM..." A dazed Jan mumbled. "...and now to Oliver with Sports..." He promptly stumbled over and fell on his face.

With the Frenchman and the gangbanger out of the way, Mantis turned to his left and saw Seras getting back to her feet. The flames she was once bathed in now reduced to glowing embers as the burns on her skin vanished. She was no Alucard, but she'd be the toughest nut to crack in this room.

He felt two other minds making their way towards him through the floor. When he realized Seras was going to try another charge at him, he simply flew forwards as she leapt. He did an about-face just in time to see Seras come within a hair's breadth of a Half-Orc's sword rising through the floor, followed by its owner and Pip.

"So sorry Miss Victoria," The Grey Prince said hurriedly as he pulled his blade away from his vampiric companion. "Casper told me everything, where might the trouble be?"

Seras turned and pointed to Mantis, hovering by Integra's desk. "Over there, be careful, he's a telepath!"

"So I've heard," The swordsman commented as he turned to face Mantis. He observed his opponent, somewhat unimpressed by his skeletal physique. The man looked so fragile, that even if Seras were still human, she could have snapped him like a twig. "I bet the only future he'll be able to see at this point is my sword running him through."

Seras tried to protest to warn the Half-Orc of what he was getting into, but he had already begun charging at the psychic soldier. Mantis' retaliation began as he flung his arm right arm forward. In a heartbeat, Integra's desk was flying at The Grey Prince like a soda can, but the warrior was undeterred. He simply swung his sword forward and cut the flying furniture in half, sending the two halves sailing around him.

"I hope that's not the best you can..." Was all The Grey Prince could say before a portrait of Arthur Hellsing that had immediately followed the desk slammed into him, the painting's frame becoming an impromptu necklace as the canvas tore against his head. As if that weren't enough, while the disorientation of this surprise was short lived, a still intact chair smashed into the swordsman's head before he could get his wits about him. He remained standing, but was too dizzy to be an immediate threat to Mantis anymore.

"I see you've got a lovely slapstick routine going on around here, chum."

Mantis wheeled around to see Captain Jack standing only a few feet away, cutlass in hand. He brought his hands together for another telekinetic pulse, but the good Captain held out his hand in a 'stop' gesture.

Surprisingly, Mantis complied and let the psychic energy harmlessly disperse.

"That's more like it," the Captain said jovially before producing a flask of his favorite drink. "I'll give you credit for being polite, but I'd like to start every battle I can with a nice sip of liquid courage." '_Poor fool won't be able to read my mind if I'm in a stupor.'_

Mantis patiently stood in place and let Jack uncork the bottle and down its contents...only to spit it out as a burning agony filled his mouth and dripped down his throat. He even went intangible to drip anything out that remained. What he tasted was not rum, but more like the fires of Hell itself, even the Vodun spirit Baron Samedi himself would burn his tongue imbibing it.

"Now, now, don't panic Captain Sparrow," Mantis teased. "You didn't **really** just drink a flask of sulfuric acid." He gently tapped the side of his head. "You only **think** you drank a flask of sulfuric acid."

Captain Jack's expression turned grim and serious. "You never mess with a man's rum you little bugger!" And with that, he leapt and swung his sword at Mantis.

It was a futile gesture. Mantis simply dived out of the way and telekinetically thrust him back to the floor.

Jan was just getting up, rubbing his head as his spiritual energy returned to stability after Mantis' electrifying attack.

"I hope you're in for the beat down of a lifetime motherfucker!" Jan said as he gracefully leapt back to his feet. "Because you're going to want to keep wearing that mask when I'm done with your fa-..." was all he managed to get back out before Captain Jack landed on him, in a rather compromising position.

It took almost three seconds for both victims to realize what was happening. Both the pirate and the freak rolled off each other, coughing, hacking and spitting as if they had just sipped a horrible poison.

Within seconds, the debris the battle created, along with various other things not nailed down: books, chairs, other paintings, both halves of Integra's desk, and all the chunks of broken objects gravitated towards Mantis and swirled around him in an impromptu vortex.

Not learning their lesson (or probably just not knowing what else to do), Seras and Pip both ran at the Vortex. Pip downgraded his shotgun back into a Beretta for more precise shooting and attempted to shoot the debris out of the air, but there was too much of it...and fortunately for Mantis, none of the bullets hit the four broken off chair legs he was giving extra focus.

Seras leapt into the air shortly before seeing four chair legs darting at her. She was already airborne. It was too late to change direction, and she didn't have enough time to fly out of the way by the time she realized what was happening.

None of them hit her heart, she was still...well, 'alive' is a rather flexible term, but all four makeshift stakes sent her flying back to the floor, each one just brushing her heart.

"**Seras!**" Pip yelled, horrified. As soon as he turned around to run to her aid, however, he got the spine of a rather heavy copy of Tolstoy's War and Peace to the back of his skull, sending him crashing ungracefully to the floor.

Seras weakly looked up at the masked specter overhead. _How he bloody Hell, am I suppose to defeat this guy? He's in our heads! He knows everything we know, can probably even predict our attacks before __**we**_ _decide on them. This... This is crazy, absolutely insane!_ It was then that a memory popped into the nexus's head, and she got possibly the most insane idea of her unlife. "Buy me sometime!" She yelled to her ghosts.

The ghost's nodded and began to rush the psychic. They did not all rush at once though. They were no longer trying to defeat the enemy, just keep him busy. So, they took turns to insure that they could keep up a steady stream of attacks until Seras was able to enact... whatever her plan was.

Seras was doing her best to speed things along, but she was attempting something completely new to her. And, for once, she didn't have Helena to guide her. However, after a few moments of searching, Seras was able to pinpoint the spirit signature she was looking for. She shuddered when she found the mind she was looking for. _Am I really going to do this? Maybe we're better off with Mantis. _

But then Mantis remarked "You are powerful indeed, but I know your weak point. Sir Integra, why don't you stand right where your favorite monster can see you...and **blow your brains out.**" Seras decided that she had no choice. She'd only met one ghost who would stand a chance against Mantis's mental control. Seras gulped and unblocked someone she'd prayed to never meet again.

A Maniacal cackling split the air and, briefly, even Mantis was caught off guard as a distorted image of a clown in a purple suit began to take shape. The figure looked around. He recognized the mansion, for he'd been there before. Then his eyes rested on Seras and they almost seemed to burn. "You!" He leapt at her and flicked his wrist, producing a switch blade. "You're the one who banished me!" Then the clown's tone shifted from one of rage to one that **sounded** almost hurt and innocent. "And all I ever wanted was to make people laugh."

Seras dodged the clown, "Wait. You don't understand. I brought you back. We need your help."

"And why would I help a servant of order like you?"

Seras replied with the only thing that she thought had even a chance of swaying the mad clown. She pointed to the psychic enemy. "Mantis is going to make Sir Integra kill herself." The clown seemed unfazed as he slowly stalked up to her. Seras paused for a moment, then added. "She's a strong follower of God. She won't be sent to limbo!"

Now it was the clown's turn to pause for a moment. He turned and began to walk over to Mantis. "You know, you remind me of my father's brother's nephew's former roommate, and... I hated him." the clown leared at his target, then smiled broadly. "Want to know how I got these scars?"

Mantis smirked as he reached into the new ghost's mind. "Oh, you got them from your father. Oh, no, wait. It... It was your girlfriend. No, your mother thought you had a sour expression. No, you made them yourself while chewing on a razor blade. No, no, it... It was... A giant kangaroo with a jackknife. A race car? Your kitten had a urinary tact infection? Syphilis? An alcoholic dog? What the... What the Hell!" For the first time, Mantis had found a mind so mixed up that he was having trouble reading it. It seemed that this new ghost's mind had merged fact with multiple fictions till it reached a point where no one thing rose above the others, where 'truth' simply did not exists. Startled and a bit worried, Mantis tried to pull back from the clowns mind only to be sucked in deeper.

Suddenly Gene Wilder appeared out of nowhere. "Now, now. Everyone knows you can't go out the same way you came in." Then Mantis was dumped into a dark but colorful 'city'. Mantis looked around and thought the place rather resembled some drawing made by a deeply disturbed eight year old. Then a Jack in the Box fell into his lap. The handle began to turn and Pop Goes the Weasel played. Mantis stared at the child's toy suspiciously. After a moment, the song stopped and 'Jack' popped up. Mantis felt a little reviled. He half expected something sinister to be within the box, but then a green gas sprayed out of 'Jack's' mouth and Mantis found himself in the midst of an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Fear gripped the psychic as he laughed himself into unconsciousness.

* * *

Mantis awoke in an office room. He looked down to see himself dressed in an Italian suit. He also had a pad and pen in his hand, although the psychic had no idea why. Then he heard a voice coming from a nearby couch. It was the clown's voice. "Aerrr, what's up doc? So you want to know how my mind works, do you?"

Mantis shook his head 'no'. At this point he only wanted to sever the link and get back into his own head. But the clown just continued on anyway. "Well, first we need to go in search of my inner child." And with that the 'office' morphed into an operating room. Mantis looked around, trying to get his bearings; but then a nurse, who bore the same face as the clown, ran up with a surgical gown clutched in her hand. "Doctor, Doctor, better get here quick. Sir Integra looks awfully sick." With that, the nurse pulled the gown over Mantis's head. Somehow the suit vanished, and Mantis was suddenly clothed head to toe in doctor's scrubs. The psychic was then pushed through a set off double doors and into a delivery room.

He instantly recognized the pregnant woman despite the fact that she wore a Harlequin costume and had her face made up as much as everyone else. After all, the woman was the same one he'd mind controlled just a half hour earlier. The clown was standing by the woman's side, firmly holding her hand. "That's it Honey. You're doing great."

Clown Integra laughed loudly and the nurse exclaimed, "Quick doctor get in potion."

Mantis let out a confused, "Huh?"

The nurse just replied, "You have to deliver the baby."

"Oh... Oh Hell! NO!!"

Mantis's protests did him little good though as he was forced down in front of the birthing canal. Then the psychic heard Tommy-Lee Jone's voice. "Don't worry. All you have to do is catch."

Again, Mantis tried to protest; but Clown Integra's face screwed into a strained expression and there was a sound of canon fire as a child was shot out of her birth canal. The projectile was travailing nearly sixty miles per hour when it impacted Mantis, sending them both flying through one of the delivery rooms walls.

It took Mantis a moment to recover, but then he looked at the child in his hands. Rather than a new born, the child looked to be about two years old. It held a rattle and greatly resembled it's father, right down to the scars and painted face.

The child shook its rattle, and let out a single, "Goo" Before asking, "So, want to know how I got these scars? It was in the delivery room. My doctor was a duck... no wait, a sadist. Rather than spanking me to make me cry, he shoved his scalpel into my mouth and..."

The child was interrupted by another sound of canon fire as Clown Integra discharged her after birth. The second projectile followed the first and splatted against Mantis's face with more then enough force to knock the psychic over. The child, perhaps spooked by the loud noise, made a 'discharge' of his own, and Mantis quickly sat back up. Covered in 'human' waste, the psychic shuddered as the after birth juices ran down his face. Then the father walked up and slapped the psychic on the back. "Here, have a cigar." The father shoved a lit one into Mantis's mouth then scooped up his child and left. The cigar exploded shortly there after, knocking Mantis out.

* * *

When the psychic came to again, he was back in the office. The voice from the couch said, "Well, now that you've met my inner child, it's time to move on to my adolescence. Ah, my first crush, my first killing spree and, of course, the loss of my virginity." Mantis just let out a horrified scream. The physic simply could take no more.

Back in the real world, everyone was just staring at the two ridiculously made up individuals. Both the clown and the physic were moving and speaking in accordance with what was going on in their fantasy world, but since no one else could see what was happening, they all had either disturbed or amused expressions on their faces. Finally, Mantis began to scream incoherently. He was rambling on about something to do with rattles, psychiatry, placenta, Sir Integra, a hatchet, chocolate pudding, vault 77 and a crazed hand puppet who'd 'killed before'. Shortly after the puppet comment, Mantis jumped out a window and ran screaming from the mansion grounds.

* * *

Alucard sat in the darkness of his dungeon, watching his unconscious master's body. She hadn't moved again since her possession by...whoever was behind this mess. It had been a long time since he felt useless, and it made the former Wallachian voivode angry.

Still, with no one to vent at, his anger seethed, and he was soon calmed again. The bizarre music that played when Integra had been taken over had ended and the dungeon, and likely the whole mansion, was silent.

It gave him time to think, about what 'Integra' had said to him, her decidedly-un-Integra-like desire to let him ravish her and to surrender her chastity at the drop of a hat. Of course it had to have been mind-control, Integra would not sleep with Alucard if he was Adam and she was Eve.

Come to think of it, while Alucard had always given it a passing acknowledgment, he only now realized it had been decades since he had bedded a woman, willing or otherwise.

It was then that a rather mischievous smirk crossed the ancient vampire's face. He got out of his throne and made his way to her master's unconscious form. It was true that a feature of the many seals that bound him to the Hellsing family would prevent him from getting away with more unsavory...actions without Integra's consent. Besides, he had far too much respect for the Hellsing heir to rape her in her sleep, even if the magic binding him to her had suddenly vanished. However, he would be quite content with what he was about to do. His lips curling back not only in anticipation, but preparation.

The Nosferatu knelt over Integra's form and brought his face a mere inch from hers. He took in and savored a few bursts of her breath before gently removing her glasses. Finally, he brought his face up to her until no space separated them.

His tongue had been in her mouth for all of three seconds when he felt something cold and metallic along the top of his head. The thunderous burst in his ears and the bloody hole suddenly drilled into the top of his head and the exit wound that appeared in his tailbone only confirmed what had been touching him.

Alucard reeled back and stumbled into a sitting position, wondering if maybe the entity had not vanished after all.

"Just what do you hope to accomplish by controlling my master, **worm?!**" Alucard snarled.

"Give me more credit than that, Alucard," Integra spoke, a more lively intonation in her voice said...complete with carefully restrained anger. "I just had my mind violated. I don't need **you** violating my mouth along with it."

Realizing that Integra was her old self again, the vampire smirked.

"But master," he said in a false, innocent voice, his iconic, wicked grin returning. "Didn't Sleeping Beauty need a kiss from Prince Charming to awaken her?"

"'Charming' is not first word that comes to mind when I think of you, Alucard." She said as she rose from her resting position.

"Master, You wound me."

(Well, there you have the fifth chapter. Please let us know what you think. Thanks.

Have a good day, and god bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


	6. Sad, So Sad

**AN: **Another, mostly, Crow T. R0bot chapter for y'all. I feel a little bad making him do so much of this. Unfortunately, my limited knowledge of Metal Gear prevents me from being much help with that part of the plot.

**Prologue: **

**Dolinovodno, Tselinoyarsk, U.S.S.R., 1962**

Sanguine blood mingled with the Earth, sinking into the mud with the pounding of the rain.

Twelve good men were now face-down in the soil. Four had their necks broken, a cleaner death than the five slit throats and three who were killed with bullets from their stolen guns. They had once been the GRU's elite Spetznaz, and had given their lives to protect him. However, now that they were all dead, it had been in vain.

He could see their spirits standing over their own corpses. The initial shock of dying had robbed them of their senses, and they would not recover in time to execute their standing orders. He had tried to explain to Colonel Volgin the futility of such an order, but that brute hadn't listened, and he was paying for it.

And then his eyes returned to the only other living person there, their killer.

His lover...

Her curly golden locks stayed out of her face, thanks to her bandana. Her uniform, the same she wore fighting at his side twenty years earlier, soaked with the rain. The drops hitting her face hid her tears, perfecting her determined stance.

The sky itself seemed to cry at the sight of this tragedy.

He knew what she was here for, and from that there was no escape. The hilly trail behind her was out of the question, and less than a foot behind him was the deep canyon carved by the rapids of the Dolinovodno River. A rope bridge connected to the other cliff, but it would be too narrow to navigate and too rickety to run across before she put a bullet in his back.

With decades of talking to the dead under his belt, the aging Nexus had anticipated this moment. Not this scenario, but its inevitable conclusion.

Surprisingly, he smiled.

"Boss," he whispered. "You have to shoot me."

He didn't show it, but after knowing the woman all these years, it was hard not to feel shock at her next words.

"I can't!"

"Shoot me!" He repeated. As commanding as the words were, they still barely crossed the threshold from whispering to talking. "You want to finish your mission, don't you?"

Her expression did not change, and she did not raise her handgun.

"Then..." He continued. "...You'll have to shoot me."

She took a sharp intake of air as she finally raised the stolen Makarov. She flicked the hammer back to insure something didn't go wrong.

For the first time in his life, he saw her hands tremble.

His smile didn't stop, it would have been reassuring under any other circumstances, but now it was sad...so sad.

"The spirit of the warrior will always be with you...don't be sad..."

Her finger tightened around the trigger. A tear finally squeezed out of each eye as she held the flood back.

"...We'll meet again someday."

There was a sound of thunder.

He didn't turn around as his husk toppled off the cliff and vanished into the white water below.

For a minute, he thought time had frozen. His killer didn't move. He hardly noticed the wisp of smoke that trickled out of the barrel.

"Boss?" He spoke again, his comforting tone overtaken by a trace of befuddlement. "Boss, it's okay."

If she heard him, he gave no indication.

"He's gone..." It was barely audible, but it hit him hard.

"I just told you five seconds ago that I'd always be with you..." He said a little more loudly and desperately than he would have wanted. "That wasn't metaphorical!"

She gave a forlorn look at the Cliffside. She was staring right at him...right through him. He could only stare as she finally, slowly, disappeared into the foliage.

There was a pause. Despite his moniker from the war, there were no tears, no scream to the heavens, only a forlorn stare as the implications of his new state of existence finally sank in.

_Thirty-five years of talking to the dead and now I have to learn how to talk to the living._ Had he been more open about his emotions, he would have groaned. _**Perfect.

* * *

**_

**Chapter 6: Sad, So Sad.**

Seras stood in Integra's office. The Knight was obviously unhappy, and Seras couldn't really blame her. "Seras Victoria, the Joker? What were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. But it was the only way I could think of to stop Mantis, and... and I did banish him again."

"Yes," The knight began, her voice sounding a little strained. "But not before he turned by bedroom into his perverted version of a 'lover's nest'. Do you know how long I'm going to have to sleep in one of the guest rooms? It's going to take the cleaning crew a week to take care of that mess!"

"Sir, I do apologize, but Mantis was going to make you **kill yourself**."

Integra sighed and pushed up the rim of her glasses. "Alright, alright. I guess having the Joker back for a couple of hours was better then the alternative..." Integra paused for a moment, "barely. Just don't unbanish him again. I don't know if my sanity could take another of his 'romantic surprises'."

"No, Sir Integra." Integra raised an eyebrow. "I mean yes, Sir Integra. Uh, that is to say, the Joker will stay banished from now on."

Integra nodded. "Good." The knight turned to a stack of papers on her desk and gave the nexus a dismissive wave. "You can go now."

Seras turned to the door and breathed a sigh of relief. After what the Joker had put Integra through, the nexus fully expected some kind of punishment. Seras left her boss's office and headed down the hallway. She hadn't taken more then five steps when Helena floated up through the floor. "It's seems that things have been 'interesting' around here since I left."

Seras chuckled nervously, "Um, you could say that. Some psychic ghost, who called himself Mantis, attacked the mansion. He mind controlled Sir Integra, made her empty a clip into Master, and gave us a real run for our money."

"Mantis, really?" Helena's expression betrayed a level of interest that was quite rare for the ancient librarian. She hovered a couple of feet closer to Seras, and the ghost vampire lowered her voice slightly. "Tell me, just how did you defeat him?"

Seras's hand went to rub the back of her neck, and the nexus let out another nervous chuckle. "Well, you see... I, uh... unbanished the Joker. Hehe."

Helena's eyes widened, "The Joker?"

"Yeah, I... That is to say... He was the only one I could think of who's mind was messed up so much that Mantis wouldn't be able to anticipate his attacks; and it worked, well, sort of. The two of them just stared at each other, then they started randomly walking around, lying down, talking in different tones and yelling. Eventually Mantis went psycho and ran away, while screaming a bunch of nonsense." Seras tapped her two index fingers against each other. "Crazy, huh? Hehe."

Helena burst out laughing, and a worried expression formed on Seras's face. The nexus had never seen the vampire librarian do anything more than crack a smile. But now, Helena was grabbing her stomach and laughing almost uncontrollably.

"Helena," Seras began slowly, concern evident on her face. "Are... are you okay?"

After a brief moment, Helena quieted back down and wiped a few tears from her face. "Fine, child. It's just, that is the first time I've ever heard of anyone defeating Mantis in quite that way. It was rather resourceful of you."

"Oh, uh... thanks. So, how do people usually beat him?"

Helena eyed Seras for a moment. "Let's just say it usually involves some input switching and leave it at that. I don't really think you're open minded enough to grasp the whole truth, at least, not yet."

"O-k-a-y." Seras drawled before switching subjects. "So, how did things go? Did you find any allies? Do you think we're ready to take on Ocelot and Millennium yet? Is..."

"Seras, please." Helena held up a hand, and the young nexus stopped her rambling. "That's better. Now, I've found you two new allies."

"Only two?" Seras asked then almost immediately cast her eyes downward. "Sorry. It's two more than we had. It's just... well... Millennium could have an entire army of ghosts."

"It's okay." Helena excused the young nexus's momentary ingratitude. "To be honest, I was a little disappointed, myself. Unfortunately, it seems that most of my 'old friends' have already passed on from limbo." Seras noticed a tiny flicker of sorrow in Helena's voice. Or was... was it loneliness? Either way, Helena completely covered it up before continuing, "But the two that I've still got should prove invaluable. One's an American, William 'B.J.' Blazkowicz. He's a Wold War 2 veteran, and he's got **a lot** of experience fighting Nazis. In fact, I think he might've killed even more of them than your Master. And BJ racked up his kills without any vampiric powers."

"Well, that's impressive. How'd he manage that?" Seras asked without a trace of sarcasm.

"It's... a long story and one that I don't feel right about telling you without his permission. If you're really curious. he's most likely down in the kitchen, probably raiding the mansion's fridge. You can ask him, yourself. That's one good thing about talking to the dead, the stories they can tell. Your other new ally knew that all too well."

"Okay. So If BJ's got a Nazi kill count as high as Master, who's my other new ally?"

"The Sorrow, he's a ghost who, in life, was a very powerful nexus. He's refused to get involved in the combat side of things, but He's agreed to train you in more advanced nexus techniques, somethings even **I've **never read about."

"Really?" It was Seras's turn to widen her eyes as the young nexus quickly decided that she would talk to this second ally before concerning herself with 'BJ's' old war stories. "So... uh if BJ's in the kitchen, where's this 'Sorrow'?"

Helena just smiled coyly.

* * *

**Zaozyorje, Tselinoyarsk, Russian Federation, 2005**

(SHNIIIKT!) Another swath of particularly tall grass and shrubbery collapsed in a heart beat as Walter's wires sliced them at the dirt.

"I know we're in the jungle, Police Girl, but there seems to be a **distinct** lack of fun and games."

Seras didn't reply to her master for a change. His grin, while still intimidating, indicated he was in a good mood, and was only being sarcastic. Hopefully it would stay that way for the duration of their hike.

Getting into Russia wasn't much of a problem, it was venturing out to the largely uninhabited Tselinoyarsk region that had been tricky. The nearest civilization was more than a hundred miles away, and nothing but dense jungles and mountains in between (yes, jungles, Seras wasn't exactly a geography expert, but even she found the climate odd for this country), and it had taken some significant string pulling to get transport to this particular area. It was no easy task since, being a predominantly Eastern Orthodox country, Hellsing had no presence and therefore, little influence here (though thankfully, that meant it wasn't a Catholic country either, so the odds of being ambushed by Iscariot were almost nil).

It didn't help that years earlier, these lands were a military reservation during the Cold War that had been irradiated by two low-yield nuclear blasts, though with nearly half a century passed, the radiation would have negligible effects on her human companions.

Nonetheless, Seras, her ghost friends, Integra, Walter, and Alucard were wading through a dark green miasma of endless foliage.

"Rokovoj Bereg is less than a mile away now," Helena mentioned. "Your new teacher will let us know when you're getting warmer."

"How's that?"

"Trust me. It would be hard to miss."

Seras shrugged off the vampire girl's cryptic answer and continued her walk. Her attention turned to the aged butler cutting down the thick underbrush before them. The man had been surprisingly eager to travel halfway on the world, and Seras hadn't pushed the question as to why. To pass what time remained, she figured she might as well...

"Walter, just why exactly are you coming along?" She asked.

"I suppose my first answer back home wasn't very clear." Walter admitted as he shredded another thick swatch of grass. "I'm surprised it took you this long to ask for clarification."

"You almost froze when she mentioned this 'Sorrow' person." Integra pointed out, "What was that all about?"

"**The** Sorrow," Walter corrected, "...was a Russian operative Alucard and I made a bit of an acquaintanceship with during the war."

"Yes, I knew I recognized that codename," Alucard joined in. "Ha ha! I never thought **I** would hear from the Cobras again!"

"The Cobras?" Jan semi-interrupted the No Life King, visibly confused. "The bad guys from G.I. Joe?" the ghostly American soldier at his side elbowed him gently but quickly.

"Let the vampire talk."

"The Cobras?" Seras continued with a blink.

"The world's very first Special Forces unit," Walter answered, "An unlikely force of the most skilled and unique soldiers from England, America, France, and the Soviet Union."

"...and the most impressive menagerie of freaks not in league with Millennium," Alucard added. "Especially considering that every one of them was human."

Walter bounded over a rotting log as the grass thinned out and pulled his wires back. "I can't say I cared much for their codename system though, I found it particularly unimaginative."

"What was wrong with it Walter?" Seras asked.

"They took their names from the emotions they 'carried into battle' with them." Walter summed up quickly. "I distinctly remember a Russian with a mastery of flamethrowers and serious attitude issues. They called him 'The Fury.'"

"Please Walter. He wasn't nearly the most ludicrous." The former count argued. "Remember that Frenchman who was a human hornet's nest? Who could conjure up a swarm of bees that dwarfed the plague of locusts God saw fit to sic on the Egyptians?"

"You mean The Pain?" Walter recalled. "I stand corrected. Though the most absurd name was 'The End,' if you ask me, that's not even an emotion."

"Well it's certainly less clumsy than 'The Finality of Death,'" came Alucard's rebuttal. "The End was a sensible alternative name. The only decent one I can think of was 'The Fear.'"

"Walter, Master," Seras interrupted the duo's musings, immediately bringing their attention back to her. "How did you know of them?"

"Well, after our shenanigans in Warsaw, which we **thought** had permanently dismantled Millennium's operations; there was the small issue of extraction." Walter explained. "Between the stray vampires and the human Nazis, not to mention the battle taking place between the Germans and the Polish Home Army, it would've been difficult to leave the city by ourselves."

"Apparently, my last master, Arthur, had enough connections with Allied High Command to send for Cobra Unit to extract us." Alucard continued on the butler's behalf. "Frankly, it was a good choice. For soldiers with no prior experience with vampires, they proved to be devastatingly effective against the leftovers that survived the destruction of Millennium's vampire factory."

"They killed vampires without any training?" Seras' eyes widened. Just who were these Cobras that Walter and her master thought so highly of?

"Well, Sir Arthur saw fit that they get a crash course in vampire combat training, far below the quality that Hellsing regulars used considering what time they had to work with." Walter answered. "...However, his faith in their ability was not misplaced. Five men and a woman went into Warsaw to our rescue, and five men and one woman left alive along with us."

"Ah yes, that one American woman," Alucard reminisced. "The Joy, Voyavoda, the Mother of Modern Special Forces..." he spoke each name with a euphoric nostalgia Seras hadn't heard in his voice in years. "The one and only **Boss!**"

"Who?" Seras' befuddlement was impossible to miss.

"**Who?!**" Alucard yelled incredulously as though Seras asked who Superman was. "She was the leader of the Cobra Unit, a soldier unparalleled by any other. The only woman I've ever met who could kill eight vampires with her bare hands!" He turned a sly glance to Integra. "It would be nearly half a century before Walter and I met a woman of comparable fortitude and resolve, though I don't think even you can boast doing **that,** master."

Integra, who had been listening with a quiet curiosity, saw fit to respond to that.

"You obviously think very highly of her, Alucard," Integra noted, "Though I doubt this 'Boss' had anything to do with Seras' original question."

"Oh yes," Walter recalled, slightly embarrassed as he ducked under a low hanging branch. "We certainly did go on a tangent didn't we?" The butler wiped the sweat that had built up with the rainforest's humidity. "Much like Hitler's obsession with the occult, Josef Stalin had a vested interest in ESP in humans. The Sorrow was the product of such an investment."

"Supposedly he could talk to the dead, though rather than use them to aid him in battle; he used them as a source of intelligence. He would speak to dead soldiers to learn enemy positions, troop movements, traps, and other information that would be otherwise lost should the person holding that information die." Alucard added, his grin widening slightly, "Though he was willing to make an exception when The Major's thugs ran into us. I thought something was amiss when guns of the Poles they just slaughtered rose up on their own and started firing by themselves."

"Now wait just a bloody minute!" Seras yelled, clearly indignated by something.

"What is it now, Miss Victoria," Walter queried, partially surprised and partially annoyed by Seras's outburst.

"You knew this man in person and didn't believe me when I told you ghosts were running around our mansion?!" It had been a while since the vampire fledgling had been so visibly angry.

"In all clarity Miss Victoria, my skepticism had less to do with the existence of ghosts and more to do with **you** seeing them or, in any way, giving them a venue to interact with the world of the living." Walter remained completely straight-faced through the entire rebuttal.

Seras growled, but conceded the point. She didn't really feel like arguing with anyone now.

As the group continued on, Walter turned back to Alucard and mused, "You know, we met a lot of colorful people during the war."

"Yes, remember that Archaeologist working with the OSS?"

"Oh, yes. What was his name? Something Jones, right?

"Indy." BJ informed, although no one but Seras and the other ghosts could hear him. "Indiana Jones."

The No Life King paused for a moment. "I think it was a state, Montana perhaps?"

BJ just lowered his head slightly and wondered how anyone could forget the first name of the guy who recovered the Ark of the Covenant.

Alucard seemed to think for another moment before dismissing the question of the archaeologist's first name and continuing on with his original statement. "And who could forget that Canadian with the attitude problem or his American friend with that red, white, and blue costume?" Alucard paused again and his expression was nearly nostalgic as he finished, "Good times... Good times."

Seras and the other ghosts stopped dead in their tracks as a sudden downpour drenched there clothes. "Strange, sky was clear just a second ago!" The Grey prince exclaimed, not in anger, but in simple surprise.

"We're getting close," the long-silent Helena finally spoke again.

"Ah, and just how can you be so sure?" The Pirate ghost queried.

Helena's only response was, "The rain."

"Now what kind of fucking sense does that make?" Jan exclaimed.

Helena just shook her head at the former Millennium member and floated past them. Seras, believing that her trek through the dirty, hot and humid jungle was nearly over, sprinted ahead of the other Hellsing members and rushed after Helena. Upon reaching the vampire ghost's side, Seras found herself on the crest of a small hill.

From the hilltop Seras could see a vast lake, not large enough to hide the horizon, but a sizeable distance nonetheless. The first-quarter moon barely shimmered on the rippling water, but that was not her goal. Rather, the space of land between the hill and the lake was the goal. From there she could see a sea of red petals. The flowers grew so thickly together that they hid the dirt beneath them. A few dead trees and fallen logs broke through the lively landscape and contrasted sharply with their vibrant appearance.

It was just as Helena described. Seras did not wait for anyone else to catch up, though she was satisfied that she could hear their footsteps coming in her direction.

Just as she reached the very edge of the field, something made her hesitate, at least enough to slow down. She didn't know why, but every step closer she took, she felt like she was treading on hallowed ground. She could feel her desire to make her 'appointment' tempered with a deep silence, like something here wasn't meant to be disturbed.

As Alucard caught up to his fledgling, he fixed her with a quizzical and slightly annoyed expression. "Why are we stopping, Police Girl?" Of course, being Alucard, Seras nearly fell over herself at the sudden announcement of his presence.

"Gah!" She yelped as she regained her footing. "Sorry about that master, something just felt..." she paused as she searched for the right word. "...wrong, about going here."

"Hmph, so indecisive, so weak-willed," Alucard frowned. "There's a reason I call you Police **Girl**...Police Girl." He ended with a smirk.

Seras' retort was a "'Hmph'... Fine, let's just get this over with."

Then, as she indignantly waded through the first few feet of flowers, the world seemed to brighten and she felt light-headed. She thought she was going blind as a radiant white left her stumbling and tumbling through the field. For a moment, she didn't feel a thing.

* * *

When the white faded from Seras's vision, she was face down in the dirt and leaf litter. She rose to find a rather unexpected change in her environs.

She recognized the dead trees from before. But everything else was 'off.' The flowers were suddenly white, and while it was cloudy and overcast, it was unmistakably daylight. A gentle breeze swayed through the flowers and the air was cluttered with drifting petals from the plants around her, some flying, others falling.

She was just about to rise to her feet when a pained voice hit her ears.

"Take this...keep it safe..."

Seras' eyes darted just to the left. Towards the center of the field, Seras could see the figure of...someone...she couldn't tell, her vision was quite grainy and sketchy in this place. He was standing amidst the flowers, looking down at something. She could also barely make out a gloved hand reaching above the flowers to hand something small and rectangular to the standing figure.

Taking the unidentified object from the hand's owner, the figure knelt down to whoever just gave it up.

"It's our only hope..."

A pause, Seras thought she heard some faint, metallic rattling.

"A Patriot..." A gruff male voice asked. "Why are you giving me this?"

Seras stood up, but hesitated. She didn't know why, but she felt like she was trespassing on someone's memory.

"Jack..." The unseen woman's voice whispered. "Or should I say 'Snake?'...You're a wonderful man."

A beat...

"Kill me!" The woman demanded. "Kill me now...do it!" Even as weak as the voice sounded, it still carried a great authority that could only match Integra's.

Finally, the man stood again, this time holding a strange machine pistol in his right hand.

It hung limply at his side at first, but slowly, perceptibly rose ever so slightly, angled at the ground in front of him.

"There's only room for one Boss...and one Snake..."

Seras all but froze as this exchange passed through her ears. Only the lingering sensation of some external sadness held her back, but now she had to see what was going on.

The few steps she took were slow, and methodical, as if one misstep could tarnish this moment.

"Uh...excuse me."

(BLAM!)

* * *

(Snap!)

Seras blinked to find Pip's snapping fingers taking up half her vision, and Casper's waving hand filling the other half.

"Aye, Mignonnette, were you on ze Mary Jane when I wasn't looking?" Despite the joke, the concern in the mercenary's voice was unmistakable.

"No..." Seras finally spoke. "Something I saw, it was strange-..."

"Step aside! I'll snap her out of it!" Captain Jack's voice came from behind the other two ghosts. Pip immediately rose to face him.

"No wait, she's back to her senses! She doesn't need that."

Looking up, Seras could see Pip roughly grabbing the pirate, who was holding a heavy wooden bucket sloshing with water. Jack gave a slight glance at her, then at the bucket. He then returned his attention to Pip.

"...Are you sure she doesn't?" He asked in an almost hopeful voice.

Pip rolled his eye and let the pirate captain go.

Seras rose to her feet, noticing that, in addition to the returning ghosts, it was night time again. The flowers had also returned to their crimson coloration, and no petals were falling.

...and the other Jack...'Snake'...whoever that was, was nowhere to be found.

"I don't see any other ghosts." Jan said as his head swept gently over the floral expanse. "We go halfway around the world to Bumblefuck, Russia and Mr. Miyagi is a no-show!"

"I'm not sure you should be too eager to meet him, Mr. Valentine." Helena said walking from behind the tree Jan was resting against. "Even if you weren't this insolent, he would...aggressively inform you what he thinks of your callous disregard for human life."

"Pfft, if that's the case, Count Rape-Face over there..." he indicated Alucard "...is going to be like a lightning rod for him."

Helena opened her mouth to retort but froze. For a few precious seconds, Jan thought a trace of surprise had crossed the stoic girl's face. However, it changed to a smug grin.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Before Jan could ask what Helena was talking about, he felt a cold hard jab drive against his head and into his skull. In the blink of an eye, he was silent.

* * *

In the few seconds between the freezing feeling in his skull and the return to normalcy, there were a few moments of black.

With a few blinks to clear his vision, Jan found he was waist deep in a narrow, slow flowing river. Fog and darkness obscured the view in both directions, and climbing out wouldn't have been a problem if the bushes and short trees on the side of the river hadn't been so thick as to block any escape.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jan moaned to no one in particular. He began to slowly wade through the murky water, but only took a few steps before something else happened.

With a loud splash, the form of a man rose out of the water, rising until he was hovering only a few feet over the surface. He bobbed slightly in the air, but Jan couldn't make out too many features. His back was turned to the younger Valentine. However, Jan could tell he was wearing a black raincoat with its hood pulled up, some camouflage pants covered in blotches of varying shades of gray, and dark combat boots.

"Shit man, you do this?" Jan hollered right away. The man in front of him didn't respond.

"Hey, I'm talking to you shithead!"

A few seconds passed, but this time, a barely measurable whisper reached Jan's ears.

"Sad...so sad."

Jan blinked once again, almost surprised that the figure had responded.

"...A host of sorrows...and you are one of them."

The man turned around, gently pulling down his hood, revealing a man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. He was balding, save for a ring of white hair around the side of his head, and he wore a pair of glasses over eyes as red as Alucard's. The man even had a similar, though noticeably less psychotic, smirk to go with them.

"I ain't the host of anything man! I just got here!"

The raincoat faded out of existence, leaving a dark gray turtleneck sweater in its place.

"You perpetuated an incalculable measure of suffering in life Mr. Valentine," the man replied, his smirk not wavering. "And not once have you reflected on the sorrow you have caused."

He gently raised an arm, pointing an accusing finger at the younger Valentine brother.

"Now you will know the sorrow of those whose lives you have ended."

Before Jan could get a word in edgewise, his vision was drawn to the man's left eye. A single, trickling tear of blood crept from the eyelid, and with a crash, the left lens of his glasses shattered. He disappeared almost immediately.

"Well fuck that, I'm getting out of this river before-..." A splashing sound interrupted Jan's musing.

Turning around as quickly, Jan saw the transparent form of a Hellsing soldier standing in the river ahead of him with a rather grim expression...and a still bleeding bullet hole in his head. It was one of the guards from the mansion gate six years ago. How he still remembered that was beyond his guesswork, but there was no mistake of who it was.

Still, considering the circumstances, Jan felt a little awkward here.

"Uh...h-e-e-e-y." _Wow, you'd make an awesome fucking diplomat, Jan._

The man did not respond to Jan's hesitant greeting. Instead, a second soldier leapt out of the foliage and landed in the water at his side. Jan took a good look at the newcomer as he turned to face him.

"Oh, hey, I know you." Jan said jovially. "You're the fucktard trying to radio for back up when we busted the door down. First to die when we got in, right?"

Again, the only response seemed to be another ghost appearing in the water, this one a man with his head dangling by a strip of flesh that held his dangling head to his shoulders.

"And you got three rounds to the throat..."

One ghost, another, another still, one by one more and more soldiers plopped into the swampy river.

"And I was all 'up-up, down-down,' on you guys...and didn't I play basketball with your head in the security room..." his voice began to trail off as he realized what was going on. "And I think I started getting a hardon when I was shooting at you... and hey, weren't you my first ghoul?"

By now, a solid wall of ghosts had built up in front of Jan. None of them looked too happy to see him as they finally began trudging towards their killer.

"...Now...now hold on just a second here guys, I turned over a new leaf!" He said thrusting his arms out in a desperate, insistent 'stop' gesture. "Can't you just let bygones be bygones?"

Taking a look around, he could see more ghosts advancing from all directions, every one of them with a look of seething hatred and anguish written across their faces.

"...Aw fuck me..."

(Well, we hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let us know what you think. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Crow T. R0bot and Metropolis Kid.)


	7. Funeral for a Patriot

**Funeral for a Patriot**

**AN: **Another Chapter brought to you almost exclusively by Crow T. R0bot.**  
**

The ghosts could only look down quizzically at Jan's fallen body, quivering and whimpering in the dirt at their feet.

"Okay, first Mignonnette and now Jan," Pip said more than a little worried. "What the hell is in these flowers' pollen?!"

"Nothing you haven't fallen prey to." A voice whispered from behind the group.

An about-face revealed the exact same man who attacked Jan hovering just a foot or so off the ground. A quick, surprised step back followed his discovery, but thankfully, nothing louder than a shocked gasp came with it.

The man was holding a rectangular sheet of cardboard with writing on it. "_Fancy meeting you."_ It read.

Seras' surprise shifted to mild confusion at the gesture. She was the first to recover her senses.

"Are you...are you The Sorrow?"

"That is my codename, yes." The dead nexus said as the sheet dissolved. "I'd like to apologize for Mr. Valentine's condition."

"You did that to him?" Casper said giving a nervous glance back to the catatonic ghost.

"I have only shown him the sorrow of those whose lives he has ended," The Sorrow replied. "He will be fine in due time, and hopefully have better insight on his actions."

"The pleasantries are all well and good," Helena interrupted. "But time is short, The Sorrow. As you can see, this girl is the nexus I told you about."

"Yes, yes, after what you've told me, I suppose chit-chat is hardly productive." The Sorrow said as if just remembering an important, yet forgotten detail.

"Seras!" Integra's voice swept through the field. Seras and all the ghosts turned to see her wade into the field with an exhausted Walter trailing behind her.

"What the hell got into you and Alucard? Walter and I almost got lost because you ran ahead of us!" The anger in Integra's voice was moderate, but she was angry nonetheless.

Seras gulped. "I'm sorry Sir, it's just this freak rainstorm hit and Helena said we were getting close. I guess I got a little overexcited and... well..." She spread her arms to indicate the field. "Here we are."

Integra just shook her head and sighed. The look of resignation on her face was pretty much the go-ahead for Seras to continue her conversation with the Sorrow.

"Just why did you want us to come here?" The undead woman asked the completely dead medium.

"Oh, a part of me thinks it's a little selfish, considering what's on the line..." The Sorrow answered. "But the other part remembers that it is a long overdue dignity that every one of the deceased has a right to."

Slowly, silently, the specter turned to face the center of the field. Instead of flowers, a wide, barren patch of dirt bore an ugly hole in the pastoral field.

Seras turned to the specter, who gave a backwards glance, a nod, and a gentle sweeping of his left arm as a gesture to move forward. Seras gulped as she began to move forward. She didn't know why, but as she got closer, she remembered that it was definitely the spot where that 'Jack' had fired a bullet into...someone.

She froze when she saw what was lying on the crusty, dead earth.

A wind battered, unzipped, body suit, its whiteness faded by the elements, barely held a sack of bleached bones in place. The flesh had long since been consumed by the elements, leaving only the loosely held together skeleton. Seras suspected the corpse's identity immediately.

"I trust you saw a vision when you arrived." The Sorrow whispered, gazing longingly at the remains.

"You knew about that," Seras' dumbstruck expression registering shock as she turned to the black-clad ghost. "What was it all about?"

"A residual psychic emanation, an echo of the past visible only to nexuses like us," He shook his head. "The tragedy you saw was both a source of great sadness and joy to me..." At this, his voice sank to a grimmer tone, "...And a catalyst that would set the world on fire."

"Cut to the chase," B.J. interrupted to The Sorrow's surprise. "What does she have to do with this?"

The Sorrow visibly frowned at the soldier's curtness. "She was a Patriot who sacrificed her life and her honor in the name of her country...in the name of **your** country, soldier, which is exactly the reason I insisted you come here..."

Integra, Walter, and Alucard had joined Seras at the dirt patch, but they too were initially silent at the sight before them.

"Miss Victoria," Walter said, breaking the silence at once. "Would you mind telling us-..." A gesture and a hissing 'shush' interrupted the retainer's inquiry.

The two humans and vampire respected her silence, obviously intently listening to something the new ghost was telling her. The conversation apparently ended with an understanding nod, and Seras looked back in their direction. However, they couldn't be too sure if she was looking at them, her ghost friends, or both.

"I don't suppose any of you have brought shovels?"

Integra and Walter both wanted to ask, _Why would we?_ However, another glance at the corpse in the field answered the question before either up them asked it.

* * *

The fine earth they had dug up was now spread along the surface of the dead area of the natural garden. It had taken a small amount of spirit energy for Pip, Captain Jack, The Grey Prince, and B.J. to form shovels and only 15 minutes to dig the traditional six foot hole for burial. For want of any other way to help, Seras and Integra grabbed a handful of twigs and some of the grasses Walter had chopped down on their way there to construct a crude cross to mark the grave. It would probably last only a few days in the elements though, but it was the best they could do under the circumstances.

Their work complete, everyone gathered alongside the new grave. Even though only a handful of those present knew the woman they just laid to rest, the silence wasn't entirely out of respect. There was just awkwardness for those that never met her.

"So..." Walter spoke up a bit. "Does anyone have an elegy prepared?"

Five seconds passed before Captain Jack answered.

"The Boss...was..." He squinted and licked his lips as if looking for the right word. "...a...soldier." He concluded it with an "I've got nothing."

Seras gave Pip a sideways glance. He returned that glance with a visible shrug. He was just as in over his head as Captain Jack. Casper and The Grey Prince similarly fidgeted, at as much a loss as Pip on what to do.

When she looked in the other direction, however, B.J. had already taken the initiative. Standing ramrod straight and bolt upright, the man was posed in his best parade ground salute. The palm of his hand tilted slightly towards his face in typical American fashion.

Seeing the salute as a sort of cue, Pip similarly straightened up, raising a salute of his own in a similar fashion. The Grey Prince, unfamiliar with the gesture but quickly recognizing its importance, dug his sword into the ground with his left hand, freeing the right to imitate the two soldiers.

The effect was contagious, in thirty seconds, there wasn't anyone left in the field that had their right hands at their sides.

"Boss...I am sorry you and our comrades didn't stay in limbo long enough to pay our last respects." The Sorrow began. "I could not with good conscience depart for Heaven when permitted while such artificial dishonor left your remains at the mercy of nature." Slowly, The Sorrow's salute broke and his hand was back at his side. "You may have not known many of those gathered here, but with their help I was able to give you the respect your final mission denied you." A single tear of blood welled in his left eye. "But even now, I cannot join you yet. I have a final mission of my own."

Slowly, with a heavy reluctance in his heart, The Sorrow finally managed to pull himself away from the burial site and returned his attention to Seras, who, for want of anything better to do, was still saluting with the rest of the ghosts and the living people involved.

"At ease."

The salutes fell away.

"Now there's the issue of..."

"Guh...hot **damn** what was that all about?" Jan's voice shouted across the field. Seconds later, the disoriented psychopath for hire hobbled up to Captain Jack's side, still dazed from his close encounter and nursing what appeared to be a throbbing headache.

"Jan, be a little quiet now," Captain Jack chided, "while you were out, there was a funeral service, so pardon me if our sympathies are not directed at you."

"Bitch, I got skull fucked by a bunch of Hellsing goons who were looking to get even for what I did to them back in '99. I think I'm entitled to a little round of yelling at everything at the top of my fucking lungs!"

"That may be," the pirate replied, "but it seems like your headache might have more to do with learning a thing or two about arbitrarily killing anyone and everyone."

"Hey, don't read to deeply into it," Jan said pressing his index finger roughly into Jack's chest. "Sure, I've learned something, two things in fact: 1. There's no use crying over spilled milk, I just killed a bunch of grunts who were in the wrong place at the wrong time and all the people I used to make a ghouls army to kill them with, and I can't change that now." At last, a faint grin appeared on the overly pierced ghost's face. "And 2. You are going to get it **so **much worse, Captain Backstab!"

With that, Jan brought his mouth up close to the pirate's ear and whispered, "Captain Cthulhu sends his regards."

The other people present didn't hear that last part, but as Jan pulled away from Captain Jack, a sequence of moderate confusion, followed by deep thought, and finally, a knowing, worrying fear.

Before anyone knew what to make of Jan or Jack's conversation...

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

**

* * *

**Everyone wheeled around in shock, looking across The Boss' new grave to the source of the gunshots. No one fell, but Seras' eyes darted across Integra and Walter worryingly. It wasn't unheard of for people to not notice getting shot, but thankfully, she didn't see or smell any blood.

"Why are you so surprised," a harsh, raspy voice rolled across the field. "The 21 gun salute is the cornerstone of every American military funeral."

Everyone's attention was focused on a small tree a few yards away. Emerging from behind it was a man Jan recognized instantly.

"Fuck me in the ass! It's him!" Jan confirmed.

There he was, wearing the same duster from the theater. Now his cowboy motif was complemented by a twirling wheel gun in his left hand: A Colt Single Action Army. About the only thing missing now was a tin star and a ten gallon hat.

"Of course I'm a little short of the 21 guns, but my friends..." He paused as, to Seras' horror, one by one, the figures of Zorin, The Captain, Schroedinger, a mad scientist, and the plump form of The Major himself phased through the trees as if they had been hiding there in preparation for some ugly joke. "...don't think too highly of Yankees."

"Sir Integra, they're here!" Seras squeaked to her master's master.

"Just keep your eyes on them, Seras," Integra ordered quietly but firmly. Her eyes never once left the newcomer. "I think I might know the answer, but I feel obligated to ask who you are."

"Straight to the point I see," the 'cowboy' asked stoically. "I go by a few names, Sir Integra." The man's revolver started twirling faster in his hand, it was hypnotic, mesmerizing, almost like a fan blade. "But most people just call me Revolver..." he paused for a moment to flip his still spinning Colt into the air...only for it to fumble when it returned to his hands and drop unceremoniously to the ground.

The old gunman looked down, like he had just heard his foot step on something it shouldn't have. It wasn't a very large jump, but the mistimed stunt took him by surprise. Seras, now broken from the mesmerizing sight of his no-longer-spinning revolver, saw a flash of frustration cross his face.

"Sorry," the cowboy apologized as The Captain came to his side. "I'm still getting used to this hand."

Like a butler, the werewolf calmly bent over and lifted the gun, which looked like a toy in his large hands, and presented it butt first to the newcomer. He quickly but gently tugged it from his grasp before quickly sliding it into a holster on his side.

"Like I said, I am Revolver Ocelot, former second-in-command of Unit FOXHOUND." That smug stoicism returned to his face.

"I thought so," Integra's stony expression did not change. "I've been doing a lot of reading on you recently 'Shalashaska,' and apparently, last month you became a wanted man."

"So you've done your homework," Ocelot smiled. "Did you like what you read?"

"For a mere mortal, you certainly pass as a monster, Ocelot." Integra answered. "I'm not sure why the Americans thought hiring someone with your psychological profile was a wise decision. And now that you've betrayed them, I wonder if you can tell me why I shouldn't save them the trouble and kill you where you stand?"

The cowboy whistled, seemingly impressed by the Hellsing heir's vigor.

"Now, is that any way for a lady to talk?" He asked with a sarcastic grin. "I can see that one of your pet vampires has noticed who I brought with me." He turned to Seras. "Haven't you?"

Seras didn't know how to answer that, but she kept a solid glare on Ocelot. Helena had warned her that he was a sneaky man, but so far he was being quite direct.

"So you can see them too?" Integra's observation wasn't a question, it was a statement. Seras' information was more dead-on than she thought. "Tell me though, millions of dead in the world to work with and yet you chose Nazi vampires?" A combination of agitation and incredulity tempered the knight's voice. "You do realize what they think of your people, so why are you cooperating with them...and how did you get them to cooperate with you?"

Ocelot took a few steps forward, not once did his smile waver.

"Give them some credit. They're practically Nazis in name only."

"Name's enough for me." BJ replied as he summoned a large chain gun and smiled broadly.

Ocelot ignored the WWII veteran ghost. And continued, "Besides, we have more in common than you think." He began to move forward again, not reaching for his gun even when Integra and Alucard did so themselves.

Although Ocelot ignored BJ, not all the Millennium members followed his lead. The crazed doctor seemed particularly interested in Seras's newest ally. "You!" The doctor began. "I know you. You're the one who killed Dr Schabbs!"

BJ's face twisted into a thoughtful expression. "Schabbs? Oh, yes. The Nazi doctor who was behind Operation: 'Eisenfaust'." The American ghost looked the Nazi doctor over and a flash of recognition passed over his face. "You... You were one of his assistants. I thought I'd killed you with the rest of his twisted followers."

"I am hard to kill!" The doctor shouted. "Even with a bullet in my chest and another in my groin, I managed to hold on until reinforcements arrived. I've been waiting over fifty years to pay you back for what you did to me! Let's see how you like being robbed of your manhood!"

The doctor began to advance, but Ocelot held his hand in a 'halt' gesture as the cowboy entered the barren patch of earth where The Boss finally rested in peace. He stopped for a moment, and his expression, looking at the grave, was difficult to read. Was it contempt, pity...sadness?

"Millennium wants a war," he began as his vision drifted back to Integra. "...and **I** want a war. Though unlike them, I have a reason."

"Someone working with those lunatics actually has a reason for what they do?" The No Life King spoke up. "That's refreshing. I find war for war's sake quite dull."

The Major spoke up. "Dull? How can you think that something as glorious as war could ever be dull? Winning, losing it makes no difference. War is war; and as long as one has the melody of their screaming victims and followers to sooth them to sleep each night, what difference does it make who accomplishes what objectives?"

The cowboy failed to relay his ally's question. Instead, he just stood there, silently.

Seras finally got tired of waiting for the enemy nexus to explain his motivation. She shouted, "Well, out with it then! Why are you doing this? Why take their side? What kind of war are you fighting?"

"Nothing special," Ocelot said nonchalantly, "I'm just trying to fulfill an old friend's last wish."

"Last wish?" It was a rather unexpected answer, and sounded just as silly as Millennium's (lack of) motivation.

"...To return one-hundred to Zero...and then Zero to nothing."

Zorin's face took on a puzzled expression. "That... that doesn't make any sense."

The Catboy floating next to her did a mid-air somersault. "Makes perrrrfect sense to me."

Zorin flashed her compatriot a contemptuous look. "Yeah, to you, it would."

"You know what I think?" Jan spoke up, bringing everyone's attention to him for a moment. "I think we should stop flapping our gums and start..." his favorite weapons materialized in his hands. "...fucking this old fart's shit up ten ways to Sunday! Seriously, I have a big enough headache without your retarded math philosophy bullshit."

On reflex, The Captain unholstered his Mauser C96 and directed it at the obnoxious former ally.

Likewise, Pip materialized one of his own and took aim at the werewolf. Realizing this was a Mexican Standoff in the making, Ocelot once again whipped out his S.A.A. He hadn't reloaded it, but his arcane six-shooter seemed pathetically useless in this brewing powder keg. His gun sights found themselves lined up perfectly with the space between Seras' eyes.

"Hold it right there!" The pirate Captain warned. "If you shoot her..." his flintlock found itself pressed against the neck of the black-clad ghost. "Then I'll shoot The Sorrow."

"What?!" The ghost's voice said finally rising to a shout. "I didn't start any of this!"

"Start what?" The Captain said in an unusually, albeit subtly, menacing fashion.

Of course, he had no intention of shooting the dead nexus. He had seen the glint in Alucard's eyes and, for want of any other way to distract ghosts on either side he decided to be his typical unpredictable self. He gave the vampire an opening.

Ocelot himself looked away from the former policewoman at the pirate's shocking 'betrayal.' It was just enough so that he couldn't notice the sudden absence of the scarlet-clad monster in the field.

"You know, I normally don't like being the Police Girl's crutch," A sinister voice hissed into Ocelot's ear. "But knowing how frustrating ghosts can be, I think it's best to save her the trouble."

In the shock of the moment, Ocelot swerved to meet his stalker, but he was stopped halfway when a lanky arm reached out and grabbed his remaining arm, still firmly but uselessly grasping his prized revolver.

"It's a pity this had to end on such an anti-climax." Alucard said as he twisted Ocelot's arm. A loud shriek ended the standoff as Alucard tore his one remaining arm off. Crimson fluid showered the dirt as flesh, muscle, tendons and bones parted with sickening snaps.

Ocelot would have stumbled from the pain and the blood loss, but the former Count wasn't finished yet. He used his free hand to grab the falling cowboy by the collar and bring their faces within inches of one another.

"It will be quite amusing to have Wyatt Earp to be one of my familiars, and since you're a nexus yourself, I'll finally be able to give Police Girl's ghosts a piece of my mind!"

"W-wait..." Ocelot protested weakly. "You...**idiot**...don't you know what you're about to do?"

"What **I'm** about to do?!" Alucard roared, a yell matched only by the laughter that followed. "Hahahaha**haHAHAHA!!!** I'm just going to put a sick cat to sleep!" Ocelot didn't get a chance to protest further...

...He was too busy being impaled by his own arm, still holding its gun, and dripping with gore.

Seras wished she had grimaced or winced at the sight, but she didn't. Six years of working for Hellsing, especially under her master, had desensitized her to the carnage a vampire, especially Alucard, was capable of.

She almost missed the fact that Millennium appeared unfazed by the loss of their nexus.

"What are you smiling about, Major?"

The Major did not speak. His only reply was a widened, maddening grin. What the hell was going through his head?

Needless to say, Alucard didn't notice this. He simply smiled and bit in.

...That's when he noticed something was wrong.

He could not taste Ocelot's blood, nor did the instant cascade of his victim's memories flood his crowded, deranged mind.

_Alucard, __**what have you done?!**_ A voice screamed in the No Life King's head. The ancient vampire looked around for its source but all he saw was Seras shouting something to him...

Or at least tried to, for some reason, the world around him had silenced.

Seras too realized no sound was escaping her throat. It didn't feel any different than what she remembered, and surely she would have felt a sudden injury delivered to such a sensitive area. Though frankly, she didn't have much time to think of this as her vision began to take on an orange tint and the wind kicked up immensely. She barely noticed the stupefied expression on her master's face as he absent-mindedly dropped Ocelot's corpse.

_You've changed the future! _The same voice shouted in Alucard's head with horror. _You've created a __**TIME PARADOX!**_

Small but growing arcs of lightning whipped through and crackled in the air. Alucard's glasses and fedora were blown away in the increasingly fearsome gusts, but when he reached to grab them, his arms went numb as this strange lightning coursed through his arm.

Then, as if reality itself were made out of paper, the air around them crackled with motes of white lights, growing and tearing themselves open like overstretched fabric. Soon the already strong gale hit flesh and ghost alike and, like a black hole, everyone present found themselves being sucked towards the white cracks in space.

_Alucard, you can't go around changing the future like that! _The mysterious voice yelled frantically. _You have to understand the future!_

The No Life King was barely even listening. As the unearthly white glow of the hole he was being sucked into overtook his vision, he could see Seras and his master being pulled to a similar fate.

The last thing he saw before the damning whiteness overtook his vision was a Ocelot's corpse, his glazed over eyes staring into the collapsing heavens.

(Well, there you have the seventh chapter. Please let us know what you think. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Crow T. R0bot and Metropolis Kid.)


	8. Effect and Cause

**AN: **This chapter is a joint effort with Metropolis Kid and Crow T. Robot both contributing to the chapter. We hope you enjoy and take the time to post a review. Thanks.

**Prologue: Previously on ****Hellsing**

"Pip," Seras struggled to hold back the tears, "I'm pregnant!"

* * *

"I'm afraid zhere's no mistake," Dok said, grimly looking over Integra's test results. "I can start you on chemo by ze end of ze month, but ze way ze cancer has metastasized, I can only promise you a year at best."

* * *

"Gott in Himmel!" The Major yelled as he pored over legal documents, "If we can't prove those reports are doctored, an innozent man vill get ze electric chair!"

* * *

Detective Pip Bernadotte and Special Agent Jan Valentine carefully waded through the bloody aftermath of a gang massacre. "I don't get it," Pip remarked. "What gang murders eighteen of their rivals and doesn't jack the $20 million in heroin they leave lying around?"

* * *

The battered form of Captain Jack Sparrow hung from the ceiling by his tied together wrists, standing in a washtub full of water. The bruising and bleeding did nothing to deter Ocelot from picking up an electrode holding a wet sponge. "I won't touch you with this if you just tell me who's been giving Integra her information. Do you have enough brain cells left to comprehend that with?"

* * *

The eviscerated remains of the Convention of Twelve lay all over the meeting room, all except Integra, who was bound by Walter's razor wire that would cut her if she dared **breathe** in the wrong direction...and the unusually smug Sir Penwood holding her at gunpoint for good measure. "So you and Walter were in on this together," she accused.

* * *

"Oh don't blame Walter for **everything**." The false coward replied. "I hear he has two **lovely** granddaughters whose well-being is dependent on him doing **everything** I tell him to."

* * *

"Oh my god, **The Cake**!" Alucard shrieked as he dove into Casper's birthday cake and hurled it out the window. It exploded before it even reached the street.

* * *

Pip leapt out of his car just in time as it accelerated up a ramp and crashed into Zorin's hovering gunship. The street below was soon awash with flames and metal.

* * *

Bloodied, broken, and bruised, Walter found his legs pinned under the rubble of the destroyed church. He vainly scraped his fingers against the pavement to pull himself free, but to no avail.

"**Noooooo!**" Walter said in an unusually melodramatic fashion. "I must kill the vampires!"

Alucard's voice crackled grimly on a nearby radio. "No Walter, you **are** the vampires." And then Walter was a ghoul.

* * *

...Integra needs scissors! **61!**

**

* * *

****Chapter Eight: Effect and Cause**

When Alucard's vision cleared, he found himself in a rather strange place. He was in what appeared to be a long tunnel, staring at a concrete wall. But what was strange was that there was no tar, no concrete, no ground at all beneath his feet.

In fact, the vampire wasn't even standing. He just... floated in the air, bobbing up and down ever so slightly.

Alucard turned to his right and was instantly assaulted by a blinding white light. In an attempt to shield his eyes, the vampire turned to his left. There, an eerie blackness almost seemed to beckon him toward it. Alucard stared into the darkness for a moment. He had never seen such a complete absence of light before. Not even his own shadow tendrils were **that** dark. The vampire continued to stare at the darkness until he felt like he was being watched, like the black void was starting to stare back at him. The feeling was enough to make a shiver run down even Alucard's spine.

Finally, the vampire turned away from the black void too. He was now facing a hundred and eighty degrees from where he started.

Alucard just stood... uh, hovered there for another moment. Eventually, he got bored and started to talk to himself. "Well," He huffed. "This is a fine predicament you've gotten yourself into. Just where the hell is this, anyway?!"

"No, not Hell." Alucard was surprised to hear a voice answer him. He'd thought he was all alone. The vampire did an abrupt about-face, and turned just in time to see a clocked figure emerge from the wall he'd been facing when he first arrived... wherever he was. The figure held a giant scythe in one hand and a clipboard in the other. He pointed to the dark void and continued, "That's over that way."

"And just who are you?"

"Oh ho. A live one, uh... so to speak. Listen, around here I ask the..." The figure looked up from his clip board and stopped mid-sentence. If he'd had a face capable of showing emotion, surprised recognition would've been plain on it. "Oh no, not you again, what did you do **this time**?"

"Have we met before?" Alucard doubted that they did. The vampire figured that he'd of remembered this particular 'person'.

"Oh, we've never met, but I certainly know you. You've been messing up my job for the last half a millennium."

Alucard raised an eyebrow. "And how, exactly, have I been doing that?"

The cloaked figure crossed its arms in front of its chest. "You... You really don't know who I am, do you?" He sounded surprised. "Typical," the figure said more to himself than the vampire. Then he raised his voice and an annoyed tone was clearly evident. "I'm death! And you... Mister big shot True-Nosferatu have been running around and messing up my work schedule since your Impaler days. Thanks to you, I haven't had a vacation in five hundred years!"

"You're welcome." Alucard said with a snide grin.

"Oh, funny guy." Death made a mock laugh. "Funny guy. You know everyone has an appointed time of passing." Death held out his clip board and stuck it lightly. "It's all written down right here. But **oh-ho-ho- no**, that's not good enough for Vlad. He's going to become a vampire and live an extra... what are we up to now?" Death began to cycle through the older papers on his clipboard. "Five hundred and twenty-nine years! And as if that's not bad enough, he's got to go around killing over two million people before their time. And does he stop there, oh no. Even after all of that, it isn't quite enough for the 'No-Life King.' Just to make things even more complicated, he's got to throw in a few circumstances where he **actually saves** someone. You know I was really looking forward to meeting that cute little police girl. Always had a thing for women in uniforms, but you just **had** to go and blow that too. You have any idea how hard it is to get a date when you're the embodiment of death?! Well, I'll tell you how hard it is. It's like..." Death was cut off by an outburst of laughter from the vampire. Death put his hands on his hips "Oh, and just what about this do you find so funny?"

Alucard did his best to contain his laughter and wiped a red tear from the corner of his eye. "It's... It's just that I never thought of Death as being a whining bureaucrat." The No-Life King burst into another round of laughter.

"Oh, sure. Laugh it up. You know I never wanted this. I wanted to be nymph, but then Old Man Death started in with the whole 'I have no son. I have no son.' thing." Death looked at Alucard, but the vampire just kept on laughing. "Fine! I'll just leave you here then and go take care of some of my other clients." Death waved and started to walk away. "See you in about a hundred years."

"No wait!" Being stuck all alone, without anyone to torment for a century was enough to make even Alucard civil... Well, it was enough to make him at least attempt to be civil. Death turned his head and looked over his shoulder. "Just how did I get here, anyway?"

Death shrugged. "I don't know. Only disembodied spirits are supposed to enter the tunnel. And you've obviously still got your body. Huh?" One of Death's skeleton hands went into his hood and the vampire guessed that the spirit was rubbing his chin. "That is a little strange. Let's see what you were up to before you arrived here." Death pulled, what looked like, a TV remote out of his pocket and pressed a button. An image of a pregnant lady in labor began to play.

"What the... What is that?"

"Your birth of course. Don't worry. I'm fast-forwarding." Death hit a button on the remote and the image began to pick up speed. Soon it was going so fast that Alucard began to get dizzy from watching it.

The vampire looked away from the 'screen' and questioned, "Where did you get footage of this stuff?! Cameras hadn't even been invented yet."

"Haven't you ever wondered about that moment when someone's life flashes before there eyes?"

"You?"

"Yeah, me."

A few moments passed. "So, uh, how long is this going to take?"

Death sighed. "We've got almost six hundred years to go through... better get comfy."

Alucard let out a sarcastically, "Great... Six hundred years of home movies."

* * *

Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing would not scream. Sure, she was spiraling, out of control, through some kind of white other-dimension... or some such nonsense. Sure, she had absolutely no idea what was going on, or if these were her last moments. But it wasn't like screaming was going to help anything. Even if it would've, the prideful Hellsing would've been unlikely to debase herself in such a way. No, Sir Integra simply squeezed her hands into tight fists, screwed her eyes shut, grit her teeth and, eventually... threw up from extreme motion sickness. But scream? Never!... Well, not out of fear, anyway. Anger was another story.

So, the knight continued to silently spiral in the vast white emptiness. That is, until it suddenly vanished and Integra found herself falling in a different direction. She plummeted a good ten feet and crashed into a snow drift. The knight raised her head, huffed, brushed a rebellious lock of hair away from her forehead; then she spent a rather embarrassing minute and a half extracting herself from said snow drift.

Once Integra was finally free, she hugged her arms to her chest and rubbed her shoulders. "burrrr." It was cold, and... and dark; and as she looked around, the knight noticed a large, decrepit... horrific looking castle not too far away.

Integra checked her belt. She still had her rapier. Her pistol was gone, lost somewhere between that Russian Jungle and... wherever the hell she was now. The knight cast another look at the nearby castle, wondering if she should head towards it. Another gust of chilly wind hit her; and Integra decided that, whatever dangers might await her in the castle, getting to its shelter was better than freezing to death. So, the knight balled up her fists again, let out a strained. "Ohhhhhh!" and began her hike.

It took Integra nearly an hour to reach the blasted castle. She would've been there in half the time if the blasted road had been in decent condition. But hey, what could you expect from an old road that had been cut into the side of a mountain? At least the wolves, that she heard constantly howling, kept at bay; and the walk got her circulation going, warming her up a little.

Still, the knight was only too happy when she finally reached the castle gate yard. Unfortunately, the gate was locked. _Yeah, that just... figures._ Integra sighed again before inserting her foot into one of the gate's iron squares and beginning to scale the thing.

Integra wasn't more than five feet from the ground when a nearby scream split the cold night air. _Oh, great. As if I needed something else._ Integra huffed, then dropped down from the gate, drew her sword and headed around the castle's side, to where the scream had come from.

As the knight rounded the castle, she simply could not believe what she saw. It wasn't the three she-vamps that the knight found strange. After all she'd been trained to hunt and slay vampires since she was eight years old. No, what Integra simply could not believe was that some idiotic older man had used his torch to burn a small circle in the ground around him and a woman and was trying to convince the vampires that said circle was 'holy ground' so they couldn't harm him.

"Back! Back, you foul creatures! You can not tread on Holy Ground! Back! Back I say!"

Integra would've laughed at the poor fool if it had been a movie rather than a real person, about to get ripped to shreds by hungry vampires. Instead, Integra shouted at the vamps, "Hey!" She obviously got their attention, for they turned to stare at her. "Leave the poor man alone! You want a fight, come and get me! My blood's probably sweeter anyway."

The vampires hissed and charged. Integra shifted into a fencing position. Her lip curled slightly. "That's right, demon whores, come get it."

The battle did not last long. The vampires were ill trained... if they were trained at all. With their superior numbers they should've flanked the knight. Even animals were smart enough to figure out that maneuver. But no, the 'demon whores' just charged straight at the knight. Integra pierced the first through her heart, then the knight brought her rear foot forward and slid her front to the left. As the first vampire turned to dust, Integra flicked her wrist and swung herself and her sword around in a great arc, decapitating the second.

"Filthy creatures, didn't even keep a tight line." As the third vampire saw what fate befell her two compatriots, she turned and attempted to flee from the obviously experienced vampire slayer. Unfortunately for the third vampire, her momentum carried her a good distance before she was able to stop; and by the time she turned away from the knight, the pair were rather close.

Integra saw the third vampire attempting to flee and would have none of it. The knight released a sound halfway between a grunt and a high pitched battle cry as she flung her rapier at the vampire's exposed back.

The ancient weapon flew true and Integra had remembered to compensate for the wind. The sword impacted the vampire's back, and its momentum carried it straight through the creature's heart. The final vampire let out a shrill shriek as her body dissolved away. Integra walked over to the new pile of ash, retrieved her rapier and mumbled something about the Boss eating her heart out. Then the knight walked over to where the fool still stood in his 'protective circle'.

The man's eyes were wide. He looked as if he wanted to express his gratitude or, perhaps, amazement; but he could not find the words. Integra, however, had no trouble finding hers.

"Just what the bloody Hell did you think you were doing?! You didn't really expect to scare off those vampires with a flaming circle, did you?"

The man finally found his voice. "U-uh... yes?"

Integra sighed, then replied, "Better leave the vampire hunting to the professionals from now on, Mister..."

"Helsing, Abraham Van Helsing. And I'm afraid I didn't know **there were** any 'professional' vampire hunters."

Now it was Integra's turn to go wide-eyed; for as she stared into the man's face, the kinght began to see the resemblance it bore to the portrait of her great-grandfather. "You... you can't be." Integra said more to herself than the man in front of her. The Hellsing deeply didn't want to believe that her fabled great-grandfather would attempt such an asinine move.

"'Fraid I must be. No-one else'll take the job." The man let out a single round of deep laughter and fixed Integra with a roguish smile.

* * *

Elsewhere, on a similar windswept, snow ridden landscape clustered with pine trees, all was silent at first. Well, as silent as the howling wind, the distant howl of wolf-dogs could be, but nothing was out of place...

...Then a perpetually 19-year old girl found herself falling through the forest canopy.

Seras' wailing came from the **little** fact that she never thought of herself anywhere near as dignified as Integra, even with her regenerative abilities, she did not entertain the thought of becoming street pizza.

However, unconsciously or not, her vampiric reflexes prevented this. Taking a cue from her nickname, from when she was a human police officer, she righted herself just a few feet from the ground before roughly but gracefully landing on all fours. For a few seconds, she remained frozen in her landing pose, arms stretched straight outward, palms open and fingers stretched out against the ground, head hanging down, one knee against the ground with the other leg similarly stretched out. She looked unusually graceful...

...Then she collapsed in the snow, finally letting the emotional stress of the landing take over.

_Blimey, what the hell just happened?_ It took her a few seconds to realize how white the 'jungle' had become. Lifting herself from the ground revealed that, instead of a lively flower field, she was in the middle of a thick pine forest blanketed in sheets of snow. Although she was still wearing her Hellsing uniform, Seras didn't even shiver, despite feeling the icy winds weaving through the trees.

Getting to her feet, Seras brushed the flaky snow and wet pine needles off her uniform, which frankly, wasn't suitable for the new weather situation she was in...only for another gust of wind to blow a few clumps of snow off the trees around her and leave a Seras-sized column of snow standing in her place. She shook it off almost immediately.

_Thank God I don't have a pulse. Otherwise I would have been frostbitten by now._ Her assessment was accurate. While she preferred the comfort of a heavy, fluffy jacket at this time of year, she had 'unlived' through enough winters to notice that she felt no more uncomfortable in sub-zero temperatures than she did on more pleasant spring nights.

Unfortunately, she felt so lost even God would need a bloodhound to find her.

"Pip...Master...Sir Integra?" She shouted through the forest, her only reply was the constant howling of the wind.

_What the bloody hell happened back there? The moment master killed Ocelot; things just got...got...weird! Really weird, even for or line of work._

Seras shook her head as the wind shifted direction. At first she contemplated the implications of what had happened to everyone, but when the smell of living human flesh entered her nose; her head shot up and darted in the direction of the new wind.

_There's someone here?_ Seras thought to herself. Prolonged sniffing revealed a multitude of independent scents, both human and animal, all of them unique. There seemed to be a sizeable group east of her position. Looking in that direction, hundreds of meters away she could see the metal framework of a power relay station, almost camouflaged by the ice and frost coating it.

_Wherever I am and whoever they are, I hope they have a phone. I just hope I can find a way home and contact the others._

With a destination in sight and a goal formulated in her mind, Seras shuffled through the snow as quickly as her legs could take her. Ignoring the blasting wind in her face and the thin white layer of powder gradually coating her uniform, she trudged through the wilderness towards the unknown.

Had she just turned around, she probably would have noticed a chain link fence separating her from a rocky cliff dropping into a churning ocean. A sign, one of many covering the thick fence every hundred feet or so, was written in large block letters for any unlikely passersby.

**SHADOW MOSES NUCLEAR WEAPONS DISPOSAL FACILITY**

**U.S. ARMED SERVICES**

**TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED**

Of course, any opportunity to read the warning was lost when a clean 'SHING' of metal cutting through metal sent a broad arch of the fence, sign and all, crashing down into the snow.

The untrained eye probably would have assumed that it happened on its own, but a sharper individual might have noticed the Preadator-esque human-shaped blur stepping calmly through the new hole.

It stood there for a moment, as if uncertain of what to do on the first step on its journey. It bided its time carefully, looking for any sign of life...only catching the barest glimpses of a woman trudging through the woods into the distance.

Had anyone been around to witness it, they would have noticed a single flickering bead of red light before a blast of snow marked the newcomer's takeoff. It would follow this lone figure to its destination, hiding in the shadows until he could reach his goal...

...like old times.

* * *

Staff Sergeant Roger Stevenson did not feel like the 'real American hero' he was expecting to become when he signed up for the Army last year. Weaving his way through the ice-covered generators of a power relay station in an over-capacity nuclear weapons disposal site in the middle of Buttfuck, Alaska was not the job he imagined having when he signed up last summer.

Though not being a 'real American hero' had more to do with the fact that he and his battalion committed high treason less than 24 hours ago.

Immediately after graduating from the three month long hellhole known as "Boot Camp," he was approached by some men in black who were impressed by his training record. They promised him a metric fuckton of cash in exchange for joining up in some new outfit attached to the CIA's High-tech Special Forces unit: FOXHOUND.

Given the choice between a get-rich-quick offer and waiting for an IED to shred his face on a cruise through downtown Baghdad, Stevenson had made his priorities clear to those men.

The so-called 'Next Generation Special Force' unit was an all-volunteer unit who's very existence shat upon various international declarations and treaties regarding the use of genetic modification in soldiers. Stevenson and more than a thousand other 'F.N.G.s' like him had been subject to regular rounds of gene therapy and over three hundred virtual reality training simulations over the last six months in order to make them the best soldiers America had to offer.

Too bad the highly experimental process had caused mutations that would kill them in a year unless it was corrected. That was only one item on a laundry list of things that FOXHOUND's Supreme Commander used to justify the 'Revolution' that the Sergeant and his brothers in arms, now known as 'The Sons of Big Boss' were partaking in.

In a few hours, FOXHOUND's C.O. would be making a phone call to President Sears to let him know it was war. Until then, however, Stevenson and two subordinates were given the unenviable job of patrolling the power relay for the tank hangar and heliport east of their position. The past two hours he spent on this frosty shift had sent the soldier walking in a repetitive, predictable pattern that made him lose track of time.

Then he came across a set of footprints that weren't his...

* * *

It was a relief to pull her legs out of the knee-deep drifts of snow blanketing the ground and stand on freshly shoveled concrete. The snow here was shallower, which meant someone had to have been here recently to get rid of it.

Looking southeast revealed a deep cliff several dozen meters away, she couldn't see what was in the drop, but she could see the consistently strong glow of artificial lighting, and even a metal/concrete structure she couldn't readily identify. She didn't see anyone, but over the wind, she could barely hear breathing, heartbeats, footsteps; all of them consistent with a human's.

Of course, while she smelled and heard humans walking around this particular area, she didn't see any yet, though she had only taken one lap around a pair of transistors.

_Damn, this wind and snow is playing hell with my hearing!_

Upon concluding the lap, Seras came to a stop and rested against an ice-blanketed transistor. The gentle hum it made was quite comforting after the chaotic mess she had gone through.

_I might not be able to tell what happened to them from here. But I sure hope they're all right._

Seras sighed as she remembered the calamity that ensued when her master ran Ocelot through with his only remaining arm. Everything went to Hell when that happened. Why? She couldn't even begin to guess what triggered that cataclysm, let alone why it spat her out in this frozen hellhole.

Her questions would have to wait. She stood up and decided to continue her search of the station...

...Only to see someone move out from between the generators.

Seras wanted to call to the newcomer at first, but hesitated when she took in the details. The man was dressed head-to-toe in a white uniform, apparently an Arctic Warfare BDU judging by the equipment he was carrying. He wasn't wearing any body armor that she could see, just a solid white jacket, pants, and a balaclava that covered his whole head, save his eyes, making him appear more intimidating than he probably was. The only parts of his uniform that wasn't white were his boots, gloves, and a belt, suspenders, and his uniform's collar. He was walking with a slight slouch and in his hands he held a FAMAS assault rifle with an active flashlight.

Seras decided he wanted to keep someone out and started to get the feeling that he wouldn't appreciate seeing her.

And to emphasize that point, Seras caught him looking downwards towards a set of footprints...

...**Her** footprints.

Seras blinked when she thought she saw a question mark materialize over the soldier's forehead. It lingered for a few seconds and then disappeared.

Seras was just about to question if the 'event' had done something to her brain when the soldier to started walking a little faster than normal in the directions her footprints were going.

Seras knew she could take down the man with her eyes shut, but she didn't want to make a lousy first impression (assuming she wanted to make one at all). She didn't know what was going on and, being any nationality other than whoever was here was unlikely to score points with the locals.

She turned to run just in time to see the barrel of another FAMAS inches from her face.

"**Freeze dirtbag!**"

Seras froze accordingly.

Standing on the other end of the assault rifle was an identically dressed and identically equipped faceless soldier. His eyes were enough to tell Seras what the rest of his expression looked like under his balaclava.

"I'm sorry, I just got here and I don't know-..."

"**Shut up!**" The soldier commanded before cocking his head a little and swinging his gun up and down slightly, "get on your knees!"

Seras barely had a chance to comply before another voice joined in. She could fight him off but maybe she'd be able to speak to who was in charge when this was all over.

"Sarge," another voice butted in. Seras could hear the crunching of boots in the snow just in time for the guard who saw her footprints to come up from behind her. "Sir, I found these footprints!" He said urgently. "Do you think it's an intruder?"

"I don't know, Corporal" the first soldier, 'Sarge', said sarcastically. "Maybe you should ask **her!**" He gestured to the blond kneeling before him.

"Oh great," the corporal replied. "Ma'am, did you see who made these footprints?"

The Sergeant sighed. "Corporal, please. Who do **you** think did it?" At this point, Seras could tell both men were speaking with unmistakable American accents.

The corporal looked thoughtfully at Seras, then at the footprints, then back at Seras, the footprints again, then his superior, then back at the footprints, the superior again, Seras, and finally back to his Sergeant.

"...Is this some kind of trick question sir?"

_...I was captured by these blockheads?_ Seras closed her eyes as the two argued, she'd joke, about as often as the next British person, about collective American stupidity, but she didn't imagine they'd be this close to the truth.

"Never mind sir, I'll just call some backup to take her away. Maybe **Ocelot** can get her to say who left these footprints behind."

_Wait, Ocelot, but he's dead!_

"I'm sure Ocelot will want to get **both** his hands on her," The Sergeant sneered. "I swear, breaking people makes that guy feel **alive**!" The soldier shivered with fear.

Ocelot was alive? If that's the case, what the hell was going on back there in the jungle? Suddenly, sitting by to get answers didn't seem like a good prospect.

However, when she got up to run, she felt a brief spray of something wet, warm, sticky...and considering what little of it landed in her mouth, delicious.

"Sir...?" The corporal asked a little more weakly. Seras could hear his heartbeat accelerating...and the other's weakening.

Looking at the Sergeant revealed just why.

Six inches of sharp thin metal stuck vertically out of the center of the soldier's torso. He stood stock still for a moment, gently craning his neck downwards to see what just happened. His own gaze was as mesmerized as Seras', unsure what to make of the blade sticking out from below his diaphragm.

In the blink of an eye, the blade shot downward and the guard grunted as the vertical slice terminated at the crotch. However, before he could even whimper, let alone scream, another blur of movement slid in between the new slice and moved upward. The man was still again...for three seconds.

His knees gave way, pulling his body in two different directions, oozing blood as each side fell away from the other. Both pairs of still living eyes were awestruck with horror, literally terrified with fear.

A human-shaped blur in the air began to flicker, small arcs of electricity radiating across it as it faded into view. Seras jumped to her feet and backed away behind her surviving captor.

Standing over the two halves of Sergeant Stevenson's corpse was a humanoid being, dressed in a flexible metal exoskeleton...at least, that's what it looked like. There was no indication as to whether the being was a man in a strange suit or an honest-to-God pile of circuitry, gears, and motor servos. In its right hand was a katana dripping with the sergeant's blood and blurred with the slightest twitch of movement. To top it off, a single red 'eye' just bigger than Seras' thumb marked the center of the being's face.

The 'eye' flashed orange once, and then the creature lowered itself into a walking stance.

Seras' brain finally decided to tell her to be afraid when it started walking towards them.

(We hope you enjoyed this chapter, as it will be the last update for a couple of weeks. I'm going out of town and won't have my computer with me. So even if Crow keeps up his writing, I'm afraid that I won't be able to post the new chapters before I return. Sorry. But I hope you enjoy this and don't mind the break.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T. R0bot.)


	9. It's Going to be one of Thoses Days

**It's Going to be one of Those Days**

Death and Alucard finally reached the part of Alucard's life where he had killed Ocelot. "What!" The embodiment of death exclaimed. "You killed him? You can't kill him! He's still got important things to do." Death sighed and spoke more to himself than the vampire beside him. "I just knew something like this was going to happen eventually." The spirit smacked his clipboard and turned to the vampire. "This is why you don't go around messing with the schedule! You created at time paradox!"

Alucard's face wore a puzzled expression as he stared at the spirit. "A what?"

Death groaned. "I'll try to speak slowly, so even you can understand." Alucard looked as if he wanted to strangle the annoying bureaucrat of a spirit, but the vampire, just barely, held his anger in check as Death continued, "Ocelot's a bad guy. He does bad things. Some of those things set in motion important events in the future, but now he's dead. And that means?" Death paused and stared at the vampire. Alucard just stared back. "Urh. It means that he can't do what he was going to do. And that throws the whole plan out of whack."

"The plan?"

"Yes, the Divine plan for the world. Everyone's birth, life and death are all planned out. As long as everyone does what they're suppose to when they're suppose to do it, everything goes smooth. But when you mess with the schedule you create waves that ripple out and disrupt the time line. The bigger the event, or events, you screw up the worse the disruption. And, man, did you ever create a doozy!"

Alucard thought about the spirit's words for a moment then exclaimed, "Wait a minute! I've killed over two million people. How come I've never seen one of these... 'disruptions' before?" The vampire asked, a note of suspicion in his voice.

"Well, for that, you can thank Father Time." The spirit replied.

"Huh?"

"The old man's responsible for smoothing out the wrinkles created by mavericks like you. Course he would have to be on vacation when you decide to haul off and slaughter Ocelot."

"Father Time's on vacation?"

"Yeah, the old man gets a week off every century, lucky bastard." Death paused again, then laughed. "Well, we'll just see how the old coot likes you messing up his vacation for a change. Heaven knows you've ruined enough of mine."

"O-k-a-y. So, Father Time's just going to come back early and straighten everything out?"

"What? No, of course not. You think he's sitting in a lazyboy, watching the timestream and just waiting for someone to throw a big rock in it? That's what he does at work. He's on vacation. So... someone's got to go get him. Someone, like... you."

"What? Why me? Why don't you go?"

"Well, for one thing, this is all your fault."

Alucard had a feeling there was more to it than that. "And for another?"

"For another... The last guy who interrupted the old man's vacation got a one-way ticket to the end of time." Death paused dramatically then continued in a lower voice. "Not. A. Fun. Place."

Alucard opened his mouth to respond; but before he was able, Death whacked the ground with the bottom of his scythe. Thick smoke, that even Alucard's third eye couldn't see through, swirled around the two supernatural beings; and when the smoke cleared, Alucard found himself standing in the middle of a large, green hill. "What the…" The vampire looked around and discovered that he was surrounded by long haired, unwashed humans who were all clad in, far too, colorful clothing. The No-Life King turned to the spirit, "Where are we?"

"Woodstock, 1969."

"What? Why… How?"

Death groaned. "I brought you back here so you could find Old Man Time. He's out there," the spirit stretched out his arm to the half million attendees. "Somewhere."

"Wait, so you can send me through time? Why not just send me back to right before I killed the worthless nexus. This time I won't kill him. Sure, rip his other arm off then force him to eat it, but I promise he'll live."

"You haven't really thought that through, have you." Another puzzled expression passed over Alucard's face, and Death groaned before continuing, "If I send you back and you use knowledge from this future to change that past, you create a time loop. Then when Ocelot doesn't die, that loop breaks into another paradox. And I think you've already messed up the timeline enough. No, the only way to fix this is for you to find the spirit who's in charge of straightening out the wrinkles in time."

"Fine." The vampire growled, then continued in a **slightly** more civilized tone. "How do you expect me to find one guy in a place like this?"

"Hey, Mack, that's your problem. I'm out of here." And with that, Death started to walk away.

"Get back here you bureaucratic little…" The vampire flew over and tried to grab the spirit, but Death vanished just as Alucard was about to catch him.

Alucard landed, amidst stares and thumbs up from a group of strung out hippies. "Way to go, man. Fight the power! Show dat Isaac Newton what you think of his law of gravity."

"Right on. Right on!" several other hippies chimed in their agreement.

Through a supreme force of will, Alucard resisted his natural impulse which was to slaughter the annoying druggies, least he cause any more damage to the already frayed timeline. Instead, the vampire let out a deep sigh, looked around again and tried to figure out how he was going to find Father Time in the mess of people. "It's going to be one of those days, isn't it?"

* * *

Its katana still dripping with blood, the metal humanoid took some quick, casual paces towards its new prey. With no visible face, Seras could scarcely guess what the creature was thinking.

However, the Corporal standing next to her let his training kick in and fired a three round burst from his FAMAS, but while the cyborg seemed to move unharmed by the bullets, Seras could see a faint flicker of movement. Accompanied by the pinging of metal hitting metal, Seras could see sparks in the air in front of the being.

Panicked by the sudden failure of his attack, the soldier pulled the trigger down and hosed the intruder with yet more bullets. When Seras focused on him, a barely perceptible flurry of motion showed his katana was swinging all over the place, and the sparks of something hitting and flinging the blades...

_No bloody way!_ Seras said taking a few more steps back rather quickly. _He's just swatting the bullets out of the air? Who is this guy?_

Unfortunately, a horrifying click made the soldier freeze. He ejected the empty clip and fumbled with a new magazine, struggling with his shaking hands to slide it in place.

The reassuring click never came, the strange assassin almost seemed to teleport towards him, and before he even noticed him, there was another wet, slicing sound.

The man's arms parted with his elbows as a blood curdling scream shot out of his mouth.

The attacker would have none of it. In the blink of an eye, he thrust his palm upward, hitting him squarely in the nose. The momentum of the impact sent the shattered cartilage flying into his brain.

The soldier was dead before he even hit the ground. His killer, however, remained momentarily frozen in his killing pose.

Most women would have screamed by now, but while Seras found fear flowing through her blood, it was numbed by previous experiences with similarly overpowering opponents. The training her master and the organization had provided her secured her composure and stopped her from backing down.

Even so...

"I..." She inquired a little more quietly than she intended. "I don't suppose we can talk this out?"

Back-flipping into the air in Seras' direction with his sword still drawn was all the answer she needed.

Even with her own vampiric reflexes, she could feel the cold metal brush her nose as she leapt back. As the attacker landed, she righted herself and pulled back for a punch.

However, by the time her right first thrusted forward, the cyborg flickered out of existence. This finally hit Seras' brain as her fist filled the air where her enemy once stood.

For her complacency, she got a fist to the back of her head that sent her flying and sliding across the snowy concrete a good twelve feet.

Rolling on her back to get a good look at the attacker, her eyes widened when she saw it running towards her, sword at ready. Wasting no time, Seras gracefully bounded back to her feet and, just as the opponent moved to swing its sword, she pulled out her left arm to intercept it.

Her fingers coiled around the enemy's wrist. She then balled her free right hand into a fist and tried to deliver another blow to the cyborg. However, as her strike moved forward, the machine managed to bend backwards, letting the punch pass harmlessly over its face...

...Before pulling its sword arm up; and Seras with it, flipping the hapless vampire right over its head.

Sears landed painfully on her back. Her vision cleared just in time to alert her to roll out of the way as the assassin's sword plunged down to split her skull. Not about to run away from the fight just yet, she then rose to her elbows and swung her legs at the cyborg's, only for it to gracefully leap a foot back to avoid them.

_Damn it, I can't even touch him!_ Seras thought in frustration as her enemy's acrobatics continued to outperform hers. _He's like some kind of...__**ninja!**_

The 'ninja' paused as the vampire got to her feet, each opponent trying to more accurately size up his or her mutually underestimated foe. It was true Seras didn't look like much. Despite her superior strength, her apparent muscle mass was no different from what it was when she 'undied.'

The ninja, while considerably more intimidating, probably shouldn't have been able to pull all those incredible stunts in a suit made of metal...or whatever that curiously flexible metallic material was.

That said, the Cyborg Ninja leapt into the air and bounced off the metal transistors like a pinball. Seras stood her ground, her superior vampire sight keeping up with the remarkably fast automaton. Once she was certain the next bounce would take the ninja directly on top of her, she tensed.

True to her prediction, the ninja seemed to freeze in midair above her and, wasting no time, Seras leapt a good foot back as the attacker seemed to drop like a rock, intent on squashing her like a bug.

The fact that the ground shook when the ninja landed was all the confirmation needed that jumping out of the way, had, in fact, been a good idea.

Fortunately, Seras not only maintained her balance, but was so close to the Cyborg Ninja that she could practically breathe on him. Not giving the ninja a chance to recover, her right arm rocketed from her side and delivered a swift uppercut to the shinobi's metal incased jaw.

This time it connected. Seras ignored the pain of punching something so cold and hard and watched the ninja fly up a few feet as her fist delivered force enough to reduce any human jaw to powder. She took some slight relief as the ninja tumbled through the apex of its flight...

...only to gracefully right itself, flipping on its hands and landing seamlessly in a crouch, quickly jumping back into a standing position. Not for the first time did Seras wish she had her Harkonnen on her. Not that the ninja wouldn't have just jumped over its oversized bullets or otherwise deflect them with that crazy sword of his.

The ninja's eye glowed briefly again before, in a flash, he vanished. Seras thought he had 'teleported' like he did before she got a punch to the back of the skull earlier in the fight, but instead, she saw a burst of snow and a blur launch into the air. _Damn, he can become invisible too?_ She tried to focus on the blur, the blasting snow only being a minor inconvenience, until she saw it land atop a leather tarp, its now invisible sword slicing away the covering to expose two steel storage crates beneath.

It then leapt behind the containers and with a hard kick, one of them parted with the ground and found itself hurtling through the air towards the Hellsing agent. The intimidation factor came less from the flying box and more from the sheer strength needed to get it airborne like that...

Nonetheless, the vampire charged forward and, in hopes of making her opponent think twice about continuing the fight, threw a punch at the flying crate. Her strength was true and, with the counterforce overpowering the box's momentum, it was sent flying right back at the ninja, who had already taken the liberty of throwing the second box.

The two boxes narrowly passed each other, each getting within a few inches of their opponents before, like a game of extreme ping-pong; they delivered another pair of punches that sent both crates back at each other, each colliding with each other halfway to their targets.

The snow coating the boxes blasted off as they collided, obscuring Seras' vision of the ninja's position. Had she been more observant, she would have noticed a shape leap atop the still airborne crates before hopping down in front of her.

She finally noticed it when something cold, hard, and sharp force its way into her stomach and out through her back. The strange vibrating sensation made it that much harder to ignore.

Looking down confirmed her fears. Indeed, the same blade that split Sergeant Roger Stevenson in half was now halfway to its hilt in her belly, and its wielder flickered back into existence, grip still firmly placed on the hilt. She grunted as, with one arm alone, the ninja hoisted her in the air.

She tried to grab the blade and hopefully pull it out of her, but it came as an unpleasant surprise when her fingers fell free from her right hand. Her already grim expression soured further, they shouldn't have been sliced off that easily. What was so special about this sword?

The ninja looked towards the opposite end of the power station. A small one floor building for monitoring the station's functions was at the opposite end from where Seras entered. The lights shone brightly through the broad windows and, unfortunately for Seras, the ninja decided it hated windows almost as much as the vampire hanging from the end of its sword.

The ninja tossed the hapless vampire into the air, the girl sliding free of his blade. Her stomach felt no less painful now that the katana had been pulled free...

...and it was only exacerbated when, after nearly reaching the ground, her already split open belly caved in under the force of a freight train hitting it in the form of the cyborg's foot.

**CRASH!**

In addition to the rather painful impalement wound, a thousand tiny daggers pierced the woman's skin as she flew through the glass and cracked the wall that brought her to a painful stop. A guard who had been relaxing on duty fell back in his seat, spilling coffee on his pants and the floor. The brief scream expected of getting scalded by a cup of Joe was interrupted by the "umph" of landing on the floor and the "WHAT THE FUCK?!" of seeing a mutilated woman not a few feet away from him.

Scrambling back to his feet, the soldier took one more glance at the bloody mess of a woman that he could only assume was dead (or better off that way) before looking out the window.

He saw the armored figure, dripping with the blood of its newest victim walking none too slowly towards the building. The soldier did not hesitate, reaching for his radio immediately.

"HQ! We have an intruder! Send backup immediately! Over!"

Before he even heard a response, the ninja's visage flickered in and out of sight.

"...enemy has optic camouflage! Proceed with caution! Over!"

"Roger that," the radio replied, "sending reinforcements immediately, over!"

The guard scarcely took his eyes off the blurry figure as it approached the control building. Putting his radio away, he steadied his FAMAS and opened fire, only for a puff of snow to mark the intruder leaping an impossible height into the air...

...with no sign of it coming down.

The soldier didn't leave his tense pose. He was half expecting the enemy to have leapt onto the roof with that kind of acrobatics and wanted to be prepared should it come through the massive hole in the window it created with the corpse behind him.

A gentle tugging snapped him out of his stance as he felt a strong grip seize his ankle. Wheeling around brought him to the 'corpse' that crashed through his window...the woman, nearly every inch of her skin and uniform oozing blood and torn by bits of glass embedded deep in her flesh, was still alive.

"...Please..." she whispered plaintively.

The soldier's eyes widened as she looked down upon the shredded woman. She seemed to be struggling, perhaps to get up (a futile effort in her condition). Her eyes were hidden by messy blonde hair, but he swore tears of blood trickled down her already shredded face.

If he had looked closer, he would have noticed much sooner that the whites of her teeth were unnaturally sharp. They opened slowly, as if laboring to keep her mouth shut.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered. "...run!"

Almost panicked by the suspiciously not-as-human-as-it-looked woman on the floor, the man stumbled as he pulled himself loose from the vampire's grip.

Getting up rewarded him a backhand from an invisible intruder. The force hitting him was enough to snap his neck before he was even on his feet.

The ninja's form became visible again as the soldier's body hit the ground.

Seras turned her head weakly to the left to see the metal monstrosity standing over its third victim, turning its gaze to its soon-to-be fourth.

Seras' eyes widened as the ninja callously stepped over the soldier's corpse to approach her. His blade may have not been made of silver, but considering the damage he had inflicted, even her master would find the sorry state she was in understandable.

That's when it happened. First she remembered her earliest birthday, one of her father's commendations as an officer of the law, her parents' murder, graduating from the academy, her master sinking her teeth into her neck, her first (and arguably last) kiss with Pip...Yes, her life really was flashing before her eyes.

Was this how it ended, in the middle of a frozen hellhole, with no friends, family, or loved ones to see her off? Why was the foreknowledge of an entire afterlife with Pip discomforting? It wasn't that far removed from her current state of being...

Was that why an old, boiling anger was starting to pump through her blood?

The blood pumping out of her wounds blackened in seconds, becoming an oily slick on the floor. The normally observant monster approaching her paid that no mind.

It was the fact that Seras's blood started crawling back towards her that gave the silent cyborg pause. Posing in a defensive stance until it could figure out what was going on. The oily 'blood,' which began to float and take on a misty quality, seemed to pull Seras to her feet. Her head hung for a moment as she got back to her feet. Her expression was just out of sight as she was suspended like a marionette.

Finally, when the ninja was uncertain whether or not she was conscious. She lifted her head, lips curled back in a vicious expression, and an unnatural glow radiating from her eyes.

The quick jerk to her left brought her eyes to the cyber Cyclops' own. Gone was the scared, lovable, and reasonable woman that had arrived on this Godforsaken island.

Now there were two monsters instead of one.

* * *

"All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers, and the flowers fall. But the Word of the Lord stands forever." A wooden stake was driven into the Count's chest.

The vampire's eyes closed as he vomited blood. Then, slowly, the Count reopened his eyes and stared up at the man before him. How did it come to this? The man, though intelligent and even cunning, should not have been a match for the ancient vampire. The Count knew his powers well; the man had nothing more to go on than superstition and unsubstantiated rumors. It should not have gone as it did.

Their previous encounter showed the vampire, that this man… was not his equal. Indeed the only reason the Count had fled was so that Mina would be spared the sight of what the ancient vampire would do to this latest… 'slayer', 'hunter', knight. The Count did not want his future bride to see him for the monster he was. How could any woman love a monster?

So the Count had fled, back to his castle. He knew his persecutors would follow, and there… there he could deal with them, away from his beloved's sight. He would return for Mina once it was over, once this latest band of 'vampire hunters' had been dealt with. And then… then they would be free, free to live in relative peace, at least, until the next 'learned man' came along and tried to make a name for himself by vanquishing the great Count Dracula.

But upon the vampire's home coming, nothing had gone right. First his pursuers had brought Mina along. They had used her to track his movements. Mina's presence was… regrettable, but the Count could deal with it. He had his followers and his… 'harem'. The gypsies and female vampires could be used to slaughter the pathetic invaders without requiring the Count's personal intervention.

Unfortunately, there was a bigger problem. The band that sought his destruction had a new member, a blond woman who's beauty rivaled even Mina's; and this woman was not like the other 'hunters'. She possessed extensive knowledge on vampires, knowledge that rivaled even the Count's. She had slaughtered the harem; and under her tutelage the other 'hunters' became worthy adversaries. It was this woman, this 'Integra', who had truly defeated the Count, not the man, who so arrogantly, towered over the ancient vampire.

In these, the vampire's last moments, he found himself regretting only one thing; and that one thing was that this man… this Van Helsing would be the one to end his existence instead of the one who had truly earned the right to do so. The Count opened his mouth, and tried to speak. "I have… lost," A single crimson tear rolled down the vampire's cheek as he labored to get the rest of his thought out. _But not to you_. However, the words would not come, and the man misinterpreted the vampire's meaning.

"Indeed. You have lost. This… is not a nightmare from which you will awake. Your castle and lands are in ruins. All your servants and slaves are dead. Her life has faded away, as well. She will never be yours." The man paused; but whether out of inability or arrogant pride the vampire did not reply. After a moment, the man grit his teeth, raised his fist high and slammed it down against the stake. The Count flew backwards, but the man reached out, grabbed the monster's coat and pulled him close. "Count, you have nothing left. Pitiful No-Life king. You have nothing. Nothing!"

The Count knew what the man was trying to do. He was not satisfied with his victory. He wanted to see the vampire break. Well, Count Dracula would not give this human the satisfaction. The Vampire's eyes, began to flutter close, but he summoned up his last bit of strength and spat at the man before him.

As the man wiped the blood from his face, he dropped the Count. The vampire fell against the cold, hard ground. He heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed and prepared himself for the cut that would sever his head and finish what the stake had begun. But to the vampire surprise, the strike did not come; and instead he heard a voice, a beautiful, strong but unquestionably feminine voice. "Enough. You will harm him no more."

The Count's eyes fluttered open again, and he saw that the blonde, who had truly defeated him, had her sword drawn on the man who had attempted to 'steal the kill'. Despite the pain it caused, the Count's face twisted into a shocked expression.

The man was insistent. "Do you know what this monster has done?! Today was only a small sampling of the suffering he has caused. For four hundred years Dracula has plagued this world. He has consumed the blood of countless... innocents. He spreads misery and destruction wherever he goes. This monster must be destroyed!"

But the woman was just as stubborn. "He. Will. Live."

* * *

Back at the swirling vortex that had sucked up the various Hellsing members, the ghosts floated in the air. Without their nexus, they could not land, could not take solid form, could not make themselves seen, could not even continue fighting. However, they could communicate, not through words, for they could not make sounds... but through thoughts.

_Well... this is great. Just fucking great! I'm right back where I started. I don't get it. I'm a 'bad guy'; I end up floating in Limbo without anyway to interact with the living. I'm a 'good guy', and the same thing happens. I tell ya, Pip, someone up there just doesn't like me._

_I'm stuck here too, Jan._

_Yeah, so fucking what? That just means someone up there doesn't like **you** either._

_In my day... we sang hearty songs too pass the time while we waited._

_I swear if you start fucking singing, I'll... I'll... I'll._

_You'll do nothing, mate. None of us can do anything till the nexus comes back, if indeed she ever does._

_Don't worry. __Mignonette__ will r__eturn. She's a strong girl. She can take care of herself. She'll come back, just you wait._

_Not much else we can do, mate._

_B.J., tell them._

_No. I've got enough ghosts hanging around my castle. I don't need this bunch to come crashing. Besides, I'm running out of food._

_It's dog food. What do you care? When Seras get's back, you..._

_I know. I know, a fully stocked fridge. So tell me, Miss Librarian, when's the nexus coming back._

_As soon as she can._

_I thought as much. You have no idea._

_Fine, I don't know when she's coming back; but it's not right to just leave the others floating here until she does._

_So take them somewhere else. You must know of at least a dozen natural nexus points._

_Yeah and they're all infested by powerful ghosts. Some of these guys wouldn't stand a chance. You think Casper's going to be able to stand toe to toe with Hitler? Come on, they're your allies now. What ever happened to that "__I will never leave a fallen comrade"_ _thing._

_Oh, fine. Look guys! I know a place where we can rest until 'Blondy' gets back._

_You've got a cool pad, at which we can chill?_

_Er... yeah, Casper, I guess you could call it that. If you're interested, follow me. But. Don't. Eat. The. Food._

(We hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let us know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T. R0bot.)


	10. Talk is Cheap

**Talk Is Cheap**

The Ninja was stock still as its enemy turned to face it. The look on her face spoke of a different person behind the woman's eyes...or indeed a different **thing.** with no face of its own. However, there was no telling what the ninja itself thought.

Seras, and what little of her humanity remained, was beyond the point of caring now.

In place of her left arm was now an oily mist blacker than darkness itself, coalescing and churning like the contents of a lava lamp. The ninja was quick to determine it wasn't just for show.

That said, it was completely unprepared when the blob growing out of the stump of a shoulder lanced across the room and to the ninja's in the diaphragm. The ninja tried to deflect it with its sword, but all it got for its trouble was two half-sized battering rams of darkness hitting it in the chest and stomach simultaneously. The momentum propelled the ninja out the window and gave it little time to right itself and land in another crouch.

Seras did not pause. The vampire all but flew out of the window after the ninja and, without pausing, made another punch with her shadowy arm. This time the ninja didn't even have time to react as a battering ram of shadows caught it square in the face, dropping its sword as the supernatural femme fatale watched it fly. Her shadow arm seized the katana in midair and, in the same motion, slammed it into the snowy concrete halfway to its hilt, saving it for later.

Despite having gone completely berserk, Seras still understood that she had essentially been getting in lucky shots. She had to eliminate the ninja, and quickly, before it adapted to her methods.

While the unfortunate cyborg was still in midair, the vampire's shadow tendrils weaved towards his limbs. The ninja tried to continue his acrobatics to keep his limbs free, but his left leg was seized just before it reached the ground. It managed to land on its hands when Seras started pulling it back towards her, but attempted to 'wheelbarrow' on them, quite successfully too. However, Seras had become so focused on destroying her target before it destroyed her, that she didn't feel very impressed.

With a less than gentle pull, Seras brought the ninja into the air and watched, annoyed that he was able to use his hands to break his fall when she brought him back down to slam him into the ground. Seizing one arm did no good as a second swing showed him bouncing back with one hand alone...

No longer the mature and harmless Police Girl, Seras' frustration spurred her to smash the ninja, headfirst, into one of the transistors. Once, twice, three times, she could feel each impact as the metal man left bigger and bigger indentations in the machinery.

The sixth smash found the ninja momentarily stuck in his position, and a surge of several thousand watts forced her to let go.

However, the ear-piercing, blood-curdling scream of pain brought her back to reality as the ninja took the brunt of the electrocution. His own suit's power fluctuated at this disturbance, and the power surge flowed into the system...

Even though the power to the Heliport and Tank Hangar was still available after that, the locals would have to make some drastic revisions for their plans.

The once silent ninja's anguished screams wiped the red out of Seras' vision. Instead of homicidal rage, horror swept through the Police Girl's mind. The ninja's screams silenced as it pulled itself free from the beaten transistor and collapsed to its knees, less graceful than it had originally showed itself.

Then, as if the day weren't already full of surprises, the ninja did the last thing Seras had been expecting...

It spoke...

"No...no...**no...**" it half-snarled, half-whispered in a raspy voice. It...he?...sounded like the 'shock therapy' he had received had only been piled onto an already festering, wearying pain, but what, Seras could not fathom. "It's...it's slipping away again!"

Despite the fact that the ninja had not exactly been friendly to her, Seras took a hesitant step forward. "Please, are you okay?" It was a stupid question and she knew it, the...'man?' or whatever it was, had just been given (by her no less) a several-hundred kilowatt shock to the system. Of course he wasn't 'okay'. "What's wrong?"

"I..." the ninja gave no indication of whether he heard her as he grabbed his head like it was going to explode. "I can't lose myself now...he...**he**...isn't here yet!"

"He?" Seras couldn't begin to decipher the mystery man's rambling. "Who? Why are you here? What's happening to you?!"

Seras' answer was the sight of the ninja pounding its head into the concrete, one slam after another, as if one pain would relieve another. She cringed with each sickening slam as a spider web of cracks formed in the ground. She was amazed the man's brains hadn't been reduced to mush by now (though considering his erratic behavior, she wasn't exactly certain that hadn't already happened).

Finally, the ninja's self-torment ceased and no sooner did it stop slamming its head into the ground than it did slowly rise to its feet. It raised its head, staring blankly at its opponent as she readied another round.

As luck would have it, it proved unnecessary for Seras, after a short pause, the ninja vanished, leapt towards its sword, and she watched as the invisible man effortlessly plucked the blade out of the ground, watching it leap away and disappear.

Seras slumped in relief as her nemesis fled. The black blob growing out of her shoulder retracted and switched from black to a healthy whitish-pink, and the bloodstains on her uniform began to sink back into the wounds they once trickled from before they closed. She would probably have to feed soon, but she could put it off for a while.

"...Have reached Relay Station C, beginning sweep operations" a voice forced Seras' head to jerk up. Looking through the darkness, she could see the form of eight new soldiers passing by the fence. They were much more heavily armed and armored, carrying flack vests, two of their number wielded shotguns for close encounters while half the unit carried transparent riot shields with pistols in their free hands.

Seras was not in the mood to greet them and, still not knowing where she was, she thought it would be best for the international community if a British woman in a uniform wasn't found among the corpses of three American servicemen.

She made a break for the power station the ninja had tossed her to. Leaping back through the broken window (instead of using the door like a **normal** person), Seras swung her head around in search of a place to hide, but the small one-room building was slim pickings.

_WhatamIgonnado? WhatamIgonnado? WhatamIgonnado?_ The panicked woman wondered frantically. She was a vampire and yet the circumstances made her feel helpless. Where the hell was she going to hide?

_Use the Box, Seras._

Seras jumped at the hushed, whispered voice, looking for its source until her gaze fell onto a neatly stacked pile of cardboard boxes on the floor across from the entrance.

"Master" She asked uncertainly, "is that you?"

_The Box will protect you, Seras._ The mysterious whisper answered.

Seras blinked, visibly confused, she didn't hear or smell anything other than the corpse on the floor.

_The Box is life. The Box will never hurt you._

"I..." Seras said a little more quietly. "...feel strangely compelled to get inside the box."

_The Box loves you Seras. The Box is safety._

Seras felt like something was tugging at her will, something strong, overwhelming, yet gentle and warm. The small corrugated container seemed more inviting than anything of its kind before.

_The Box is peace, the Box is salvation...the Box will make your dreams come true._ The words were inviting, seductive even, but Seras' unexpected reverie was cut short.

"Clear!" A soldier's voice yelled from outside. The crunching of footsteps in shallow snow further interrupted whatever spell she had been under.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Seras wondered what just happened. _Ugh, what the hell was I thinking, get into a box? What idiot would think of that?_

As fortune would have it, looking over her shoulder revealed a rather large locker, big enough to hide her. There was no lock on it so she could get inside quickly. She only hoped no one would think to have a look inside.

As the door to the locker slammed, the box continued to sit in the corner, untouched and undisturbed.

_..........This one is strong._

* * *

Integra sat in the carriage as her great-grandfather drove it back into town. Across from the knight was the defeated Count who was destined to become her servant... and greatest weapon.

Abraham had wanted to kill the vampire. In fact, he'd insisted on it; but as stubborn as Mr. Helsing was, he still couldn't hold a candle to his future great-granddaughter. In the end, she had won the argument, though her ancestor still wasn't completely sure **how** that had happened.

The ancient vampire, who was sitting across from the time traveling knight, understood the how. There was just something about the long haired, beautiful woman that did not merely warrant respect, it commanded it. The men who had been chasing him were brave, perhaps even fearless; but they lacked that quality, that almost... regal authority. No, Count Dracula had known from the moment the blonde woman stood over him, with her sword drawn, that the other 'hunters' would end up bowing to her will.

Yes, Dracula knew the **how**. It was the **why **that threw him for a loop. And so, the vampire sat, wrapped in silver chains and stared at the beautiful woman who had caused his downfall and then saved his life.

She just sat there, ever alert yet not the slightest bit jumpy. She kept her eyes on him at all times, but was smart enough to avoid direct eye contact. Her gaze was like steel and her features, fine porcelain. The ancient vampire found himself musing that if he were God and had the power to sculpt the ideal woman, this would've been his Eve. "Flawless."

Integra did not take her eyes off of the vampire, nor did she show her surprise that he had finally broken the silence between them. Instead she covered it up with a subtle curling of the lip. "So, you can speak, vampire."

"Of course, I can speak." Dracula sounded almost insulted. Surely this woman, who knew so much about vampires, must've known they could talk.

"Then tell me, why have you been so quiet?"

"I've just lost my castle, my servants, my brides… everything! I think I'm entitled to be a little quiet, don't you?"

"Hardly. Sulking doesn't suit you." Integra's lip curled into a more pronounced grin. "And I don't think that's what you were doing. How about telling me the truth?"

"You first." Dracula paused for a moment, trying to decide if it was really worth the blow to his pride to ask the question that had been haunting him. It was. "Why did you spare me?" The vampire needed an answer. He had always been a curious one, and this woman was the first in centuries to truly baffle him. She was a riddle, one that he desperately wanted to solve.

Integra's smile morphed into a smirk. "So, that's what's been bugging you?" She asked coyly. The vampire huffed, and the knight's expression shifted back to her previous hard stare. After a moment she continued, "I believe you are worth more alive."

So, that was it? "I am to be studied, poked and prodded to satisfy your curiosity?" It was not a fate the vampire looked forward to. Being treated like a lab rat would be demeaning, and the only thing he had left was his pride.

"Yes." Integra began. "That is likely. You will be poked, prodded, tested and experimented on." The knight paused for a moment and studied her future pet's reaction before continuing in a lower tone. "But it will not be done to satisfy curiosity, at least, not in the long run."

Again the knight paused wondering if it was wise to continue. Telling her future servant what was going to happen could pollute the timeline. Of course, her mere presence did that, and her ancestor never would of beaten Dracula without her help. Maybe she was always meant to come back, to set in motion the events that would shape her own life. "You will be turned into the ultimate weapon. I'm sure the experiments will hurt; but, eventually, they will make you all but invincible."

Now the vampire was truly confused. What right thinking human would want to make him **more **powerful? "Why?"

Integra's smirk returned. "Where I come from, there is a very old sang. 'Send a thief to catch a thief.'"

"You hope to use me to defeat other vampires? To tame me like a dog?!" Dracula was nearly incredulous. "You are a fool." He growled. It was obvious from the woman's expression that she did not like being called that. And strangely, the vampire's tone changed. His voice grew deeper and sounded rather solemn. "Give me more power, and I will only use it to destroy you."

"Somehow, I doubt that." As soon as the sentence escaped Integra's mouth, the vampire lunged at her. But his chains held fast, and his fangs came up a few inches short of the blonde's skin. Integra still didn't blink. Instead she sounded a bit put out. "What, am I suppose to be scared? We both knew you'd come up short. What are you trying to prove?"

Who was this woman, who talked to him without **any **fear, who didn't so much as flinch when he lunged at her. "Who are you?"

"I am Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing." The woman replied with just a hint of superiority. "And one day, vampire, you will call me 'Master'."

* * *

Booting up the system was a simple, though slightly time consuming task for Revolver Ocelot. It would largely boil down to personal judgment to determine **just** the right power setting to inflict maximum pain without risking death. Fortunately, the man had **decades** of experience as an interrogator for the KGB and FOXHOUND, and while this device was fairly new, and he had yet to use it himself, he felt like he had already mastered the machine.

...He'd certainly have to if he wanted to squeeze REX's detonation code from the aging pencil neck strapped into the torture bed behind him.

"Remember not to take this too personally," Ocelot growled as he finished preparing the rack, "are you ready?"

"I've been trained to resist torture more inventive than this," the elderly black man strapped in to the bed behind him replied. He then gave a weak smile. "I'll be sure to 'break' when you're done."

Ocelot grinned and nodded knowingly, they'd both keep the show up for the cameras. They had already gone over this, and personally knowing one of the two VIP hostages would make Liquid's revolution that much easier...

**20 minutes earlier**

The aging Donald Anderson, Chief Executive of the Defense Advanced Research Project Agency (DARPA), had spent the last 18 hours stuffed into the 10x10 concrete prison cell with only a bed and a toilet to sit on. The floor was cracked and dank and the walls were filthy, covered in a bland gray paint job that had been fading for years.

Now the room seemed even smaller with an old 'friend' standing over him. The metal door that separated them from human contact was the only barrier between prying eyes and ears and their conversation.

"So you've come here to gloat, ADAM?" The prisoner mumbled.

"I'm not sure. I'd rather hear why you think I would first." The torture master asked.

"Well for starters, Zero and I thought we had you figured out," Anderson replied, shaking his head. "EVA was a given, but we didn't think you were playing us for Big Boss."

"Go on," Ocelot prompted. The DARPA Chief's answer was accurate, but it wasn't the one he was waiting for.

"All right, I suppose there's no use beating around the bush," his raspy baritone rose with grudging defeat and frustration. "Zero done fucked up, and I helped him do it." The man's head lowered to face the floor. "JD exceeded its operational parameters, and the effect has spread to the Proxy A.I.s too."

"So JD, TJ, and AL are going to pull a SkyNet on us?" Ocelot said, only the barest whisper of concern in his voice.

"No..." the Chief corrected. "not just them...they've gone and arranged the design of the other two A.I.s ahead of schedule. TR is set to go online first day of July," he said grimly "and GW is already on the drawing board."

"And Zero never saw this coming?" Ocelot probed again. He almost sounded angry, an emotion the cowboy rarely expressed.

"If he did, we can't exactly ask him," Anderson shook his head. "He's a vegetable now."

There was a silence between the two old men as the information exchanged sank in.

"Regardless, you still have a chance to redeem yourself." The Russian said grimly.

"Pfft, what can I do? I don't know where they kept the corpse. That was Para-Medic's department, and she's six feet under!"

"We'll let the government worry about that, we need something to insure they fork it over when Liquid makes his demands."

"You mean...?" Anderson trailed off as it dawned on him just what Ocelot wanted.

"We need yours and Baker's detonation codes," the cowboy rasped. "We can't hope to dismantle The System now, so if you help us with our 'revolution,' you can save the world from JD's control."

"And if you fail?" Anderson asked, not certain yet what to think of Ocelot's offer.

"Don't worry, there's the 'Enfant Terrible' you have in the White House. If Liquid fails, he's still got the resources to make up for it. Either way, the Patriots will think we're still on their side until it's too late."

The DARPA Chief bowed his head again, his expression blank from deep thought. If Liquid was anything like his 'father,' then it could mean the end of the world as they knew it...

...But if the artificial 'Patriots' Zero had created kept evolving as they were now, America, and eventually, the world, would have no future. The Crusade to carry on The Boss' will would have amounted to nothing.

"I'll put on a show for you," the Chief finally replied. "It would look awfully suspicious if I just shouted the codes to the heavens now, wouldn't it?"

Ocelot glared for a moment, scrutinizing the prisoner with a barely readable frown...which quickly turned into a smug smirk.

"So you'll turn away from the 'Dark Side' then?"

"Zero doomed us all," Anderson answered grimly. "There's not much of 'my' side left."

"Well, in any case, I'm not letting Liquid know who our allegiances used to be with, not yet. We'll wait after the launch to give him the lowdown."

"Good thinking," the Chief replied, a genuine grin finally forming on his face. "Otherwise I'd have outed you to your FOXHOUND buddies if you even thought of killing me."

To his surprise, a countenance of panic crossed Ocelot's face.

"Whoa, whoa, **whoa**!" Ocelot said none too quietly, the fear on his face filtering through his voice as well. "Look, Big Boss and I er, 'wrestled' a lot back in Operation: Snake Eater," he said unusually defensively, "sure there was a lot of grabbing, but we were on different sides at the time so there wasn't anything else going on about that, no siree! And since we started the Patriots I might have made a little shrine to him in my closet but..." he trailed off, starting to think over the meaning behind the DARPA Chief's words. "...But..."

The jail cell was positively silent. The DARPA Chief's face twisted into confusion and tilted as, for the first time in his life, he saw a look of embarrassment on the gunman's face.

"When you said 'outed'...?" Ocelot began.

"...as one of the Patriots' founding fathers," Anderson corrected.

"Yeah..." Ocelot said sheepishly "...I knew that."

That episode of embarrassment aside, Ocelot finally pressed the switch and paused for the several seconds long interval between the torture rack warming up and the soothing sounds of his victim's screams to come.

_You've made the right choice...Sigint._

* * *

As Alucard made his way through the 'music festival', he found himself wanting to cut off his ears and eat them. Every song was some gooey saccharine... thing, about love and peace. Another song came on, and Alucard wanted to gag... or fly up onto the stage, slit the singers' throats and drink their blood. _Wouldn't that teach these peace loving freaks something about the true nature of the universe? _Alucard chuckled. It was a loud, dark, psychotic chuckle, one that drew the attention of everyone around him.

"Man, that's disturbing." One hippie commented.

Alucard just grinned at him. "You think that's disturbing?" Alucard's hand was halfway to his gun, before the vampire remembered that if he killed anyone else, before finding Father Time, the timeline could get even more messed up. Alucard growled, but then a thought jumped into his head. _Well, if I can't kill him... I'll just make him wish he were dead._ "Look into my eyes. Deep, deep into my eyes." The ancient vampire commanded; and in less time than it takes to tell, he had the hippie completely in his power. "Now you will do anything I command."

"I will do anything you command."

Alucard grinned and pointed. "You see that pond over there? I want you to jump into it... naked."

"I hear and obey." The hippie replied then removed his clothing, ran to the pond and jumped into it.

Alucard broke out into a chuckle but was quickly silenced as he heard one of the other nearby hippies exclaim, "Look at Wild Flower, Man. He's like totally... wild, Man. Jumping in the pond with out his clothes, Man."

"I know, Man. Looks like fun, Man."

"Yeah!" And with that the whole pack of hippies stripped and ran for the pond. Alucard just pinched the brim of his nose and shook his head. "I will never understand humans." Then the vampire turned away to continue his search.

A few minutes later another 'band' came on. Alucard hoped that would signal a change in the music; but alas, this band was just as obsessed with love and peace as the last one. Alucard sighed. _I lived through the sixties once. Granted the time was spent in England, but still... I know they produced, at least, a couple of good songs. Why can't they play something that I've got on record? _

_Nineteen sixty-nine, Johnny Cash and Elvis Presley are both still alive. Why can't one of them come up and play... something. Preferably something with some violence and gun play! Something like... like Delia's Gone. Now there was a song I could get into._ And so, in an effort to drown out the 'music' that was coming from the stage as possible, the ancient vampire began to sing as he walked. "**Delia. Oh, Delia. Delia all my life. If I hadn't have shot poor Delia, I'd have had her for my wife. Delia's gone, one more round. Delia's gone.**"

He was still singing, "**First time I shot her, I shot her in the side. Hard to watch her suffer, but with the second shot she died. Delia's gone, one more round. Delia's gone.**" When one of the people he was passing by saw fit to 'comment' on his taste in music.

"Hey, Man! What you singing? Death and shooting, that's not what the sixties are all about, Man. This is the era of peace and love."

Alucard retorted. "What are you talking about?! Cash first recorded that song in nineteen sixty-two. It's a sixties' song!"

"Yeah, true; but that song is not typical of this time period. Johnny Cash was always a bit of a rebel."

"You a fan of the 'Man in Black'?"

"A casual fan, at best. But you've got to respect the man's work. His songs did manage to connect with new listeners for over half a century."

Alucard raised one eyebrow. "Half a century, huh?"

At this question, the hippie became rather flustered. "Er. I mean, they will manage to connect with new listeners for over a quarter of a century."

"Oh, they will, will they." Alucard smirked.

"Ah, no. I-I mean I think they will. Who can say?" The hippie let out a sheepish laugh. "Ah, I best get going." The 'hippie' turned around and started to walk away. "I've got a friend who's..."

But the 'hippie' was interrupted. As the vampire shadow shifted in front of him. "You're going nowhere, Father Time. You've got a mess to clean up."

"You've been searching for me, haven't you?" Alucard nodded. The 'hippie' continued, "Let me guess, Death sent you here?" The 'hippie' shook his head. "Should've never told the him where I was vacationing. Should've known he'd find a way to ruin my good time. Just cause he can't get a vacation, he's intent on spoiling everyone else's." The 'hippie' sighed and then his appearance began to change. His beard grew long and white. His head went bald, and he seemed to age sixty years in a matter of seconds. "Alright, alright. I'll go straighten things out." Then the 'old man's' lip curled. "But while I'm doing that, I want you to pick up a few things for me. I'm having a 'get together' with some friends later and I need the right... uh, 'party favors'."

"What do I look like, some sort of delivery guy? Get your own party favors." The vampire growled.

"No, not a delivery guy; but you are the one who interrupted my vacation... and I'm betting you're also the one who caused the problem in the first place. So, the least you can do is grab the things on my list, since I've got to go fix your mess." Father Time paused.

"Oh, no. The 'least I can do' is nothing at all." Alucard flashed Father Time a toothy grin.

But, the spirit just chuckled. "That kind of stuff might intimidate a human, but it's not going to work on me. Now either you get the stuff on my list or..." The spirit's voice took on an ominous tone as he continued, "**I'll send you to the end of time.**"

The spirit let loose an evil laugh, and Alucard groaned. "Oh, just give me the stupid list."

The spirit's megalomaniac cackling instantly vanished, and his voice returned to normal. "Oh... good." Father time reached into his pocket, pulled out a list and handed it to the vampire. "Here you go."

Alucard begrudgingly seized the list and looked it over. Then his face morphed into an expression of confusion. "Jet? Med X? Psycho? What the... Where am I suppose to find this stuff?"

Father Time smiled coyly. "I'm glad you asked." Then the spirit waved his hand and Alucard found himself, seemingly, all alone and standing in the middle of some ruined city. "What the... Great, now where am I?"

Father Time's disembodied voice manifested itself just long enough to answer the No-Life King's question. "Twenty-two hundred and seventy-seven, alternate timeline. Only place and time to get the stuff on my list. You round it all up and come back here. Then I'll take you home."

"Now, just wait a minute..."

"Sorry, gotta go fix your mess. Bye bye."

* * *

"Had enough yet...?" Ocelot asked his victim rhetorically. The DARPA Chief was breathing heavily after the second round of electrocution. The man once known as "Sigint" was tougher than his age let on, however, and Ocelot knew he'd survive the third round. Without hesitating, he reactivated the machine. "Didn't think so..."

It proved to be a costly mistake, for on the surface, at that same moment, Seras had slammed the ninja into the power relay for that exact floor. Not a second after hitting the activation button, the warning light on the console indicated a power surge.

Despite his exhaustion, the Chief's screams were louder than ever before. The arcs of electricity coursing through his body brighter and more vibrant, and Ocelot could have sworn smoke and sparks were rising from his wrists and pant legs where the metal straps kept him secured to the bed.

Looking back at the readout for the power output revealed the machine was giving the hostage triple the charge he had set it for.

Ocelot had no time to think. Running for the console, he frantically tried to abort the torture session only to be rewarded with a painful shock that ran up the length of his arm. A sucking hiss followed to ignore the numbness it left and the torture expert slammed his fist down on the stop button before the machines overloaded.

The screams and the roar of his torture rack silenced.

Slumping to the floor and resting against the machine's control panel, Ocelot tried to sooth the fleeting numbness in his right arm, his shooting arm, his favorite arm. The gunman hissed before looking up to see his handiwork.

Donald Anderson was no longer being electrocuted, but the smell of burnt flesh and hair assaulted his nose. He had smelled worse in his experience, and relished it to boot, but considering the circumstances; Ocelot's heart began to race.

The Chief was most certainly not breathing.

_So much for the revolution_ could not even begin to describe Ocelot's line of thinking in light of this new development. Anderson had not divulged his activation code for the new weapon, and without it, there was nothing to threaten the Washington with. Big Boss' dreams were derailed before they began, and his son would nail the old Russian's balls to a wall for it.

But Ocelot was not known for letting even the most crippling flaws in any future plans stop him. Having been raised by the Philosophers' from birth to be the ultimate agent, such scheming was mere child's play for the gunslinger. He had already run through dozens of excuses that would allow him to save face with Liquid, Solidus, _and_ Zero's damnable A.I. network should the need arise, but he wasn't going to let this plan to depose the Patriots get botched before it started.

Unfortunately, he had to put one of those excuses to the test sooner than he had hoped as two trench-coated men entered the room. He instantly recognized the masked form of his most hated "co-worker," Psycho Mantis, and trailing behind him was their youthful and sour-faced Commander.

Without a word exchanged between any of the three, they lined up in front of the DARPA Chief's corpse, giving it a disapproving view. It gave Ocelot just a little more time to come up with excuses, but not much. There was no telling when the Commander's hair-trigger temper would snap, and while Mantis' mind-reading powers were no match for Ocelot's anti-telepathy nanomachines, it didn't make Ocelot fireproof.

Regrettably, it was that same technology that prevented Mantis from simply divining the code from the corpse strapped to the torture bed, hence the need to torture him in the first place.

Ocelot looked sheepishly at the other two and weakly said, "Er...I'm going to check his pulse."

Carefully inching towards the Chief's body, Ocelot briefly examined it before reaching out with his right arm. Slowly extending his index and middle fingers, the gunman gingerly reached for his victim's neck...

...and was rewarded with a painful zap.

Ocelot jumped back, waving his still pointing hand wildly as if that would somehow relieve the pain. He tried to salvage his dignity by holding his momentarily numb hand at his side Just in time for his unimpressed superior to blow a fuse.

"You fool..." the FOXHOUND leader sneered. "**You killed him!**"

"I'm sorry sir," Ocelot answered, not sounding anything like what he claimed to be. At least his superior knew it was an accident.

"His mental shielding was very strong," Mantis reminded. "I could not dive into his mind."

"Now we'll **never** get that detonation code!" The soldier looked like he was about to 'detonate' himself.

However, after a mere second of deep thought, Mantis had a good idea.

"Boss..." Mantis hissed. "...I have a good idea."

The two FOXHOUND agents turned to look at their gas-masked comrade, waiting expectantly...

"...Are you going to tell me what it is?" The Commander asked.

"Call in Raven, Wolf, and Octopus and tell them to bring snacks..." Mantis finally spoke. "...This could take a while."

(Well, we both hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please Review and let us know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	11. Stop the World I Want to get off!

**Stop the World. I want to Get off!**

**AN: **The following chapters will contain references to the Metal Gear Solid fan webcomic: "The Last Days of FOXHOUND." See if you can spot them all. There are two in this chapter, can you find them?

While much more spacious than most lockers she had seen, the one Seras found herself in made her feel just as claustrophobic as any other Middle School nerd who wasn't in a bully's good graces. The soldiers approaching the building, however, gave her incentive to stay inside.

_Come on, think fast. If they're any better trained than the soldiers that ninja just killed, they'll know to look in here!_

As the vampire pressed her back to the back of the locker, she noticed some cloth, other than her uniform, rubbing against her skin. Something was hanging in the locker with her. Moving her head as comfortably as she could, she found the answer to her problems. It might have been a long shot, especially considering the time and space she had to work with, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

"Able element! Breach, bang, clear!"

A stun grenade flew through the window and landed on the floor with a quiet _clank._ With a blinding flash and a deafening roar, it detonated. Anyone who had been in the room would have been incapacitated instantly, and become sitting ducks for the soldier who kicked down the door.

Due to the close quarters involved, an Arctic Warfare trooper with a shotgun went in first, sweeping the room, devoid of any humans save for the neck-snapped corpse on the ground nearby. He silently signaled for three other men to come in with him, each keeping their eyes focused down their iron sights as they swept the small control center for any sign of the mystery killer. For more men were waiting outside to back them up, but they were doing a double sweep of the generators they already investigated. When an enemy relied on stealth and guile, there was no excuse not to be thorough.

Fortunately, to make their lives easier, a difficult to miss clanging sound left a single locker along the wall near the control panel. With a lead in sight, all four soldiers simultaneously turned to the source with the utmost silence.

The shotgunner and one of his subordinates crept slowly and quietly to the locker, weapons trained on it and one free hand reaching to open it. With a quiet release of the latch, the door opened quickly and violently to reveal...

...A startled, green-uniformed infantryman.

* * *

Not having time to examine her new uniform gave Seras little assurance that it would fool the two gunmen that had just opened her hiding place. The fact that their guns were still pointing at her was also a bright sign that her disguise wasn't perfect, but the fact that they weren't firing meant she still had a chance.

Of course, Seras felt a lump form in her throat. While her uniform had a surprisingly flattening effect on her chest, one great enough to allow her to pass for a man with her newfound mask on, the fact was that she was still a British woman in an apparently American base. Furthermore, she hadn't exactly taken any acting classes in her life, and the she couldn't fake an accent, or masculinity to save her life, but nonetheless, she had to try.

Her mouth opened under the ski mask.

"...He's insane, he's..." Seras froze instantly when she realized what was coming out of her mouth. Not the words, but the voice saying it.

It still sounded human, but far deeper than she thought naturally possible for anyone without a Y chromosome, and yes, it was filtered through a Yankee Doodle Red-White-and-Blue-Dandy accent. Somehow, some way, she gave her disguise an unnatural perfection.

Looking at the expectant soldiers, she continued her message, hoping they'd pass of her hesitation as a panicked stutter. "He jumped back out the window after he killed the others! If you hurry up, you might be able to catch him!"

To her discomfort, they did not immediately lower their weapons, but after what seemed like an eternity, they both lowered their rifles and the man with the shotgun reached for a radio strapped to his back.

"No sign of the enemy. Three KIAs, one survivor, continuing search operations. Over"

"_Confirmed,"_ A voice from the radio crackled. "_Alerting guard teams in neighboring sectors immediately. Sending a replacement guard team to your location. Over."_

As the ostensible squad leader relayed his report to headquarters, his companion held out a hand. Seras accepted it and let him pull her out of the locker.

"You okay, sir?" The helpful soldier asked as Seras let go of him.

"I..." Seras said, still somewhat perturbed by the sudden change in her voice. "I feel like I'm gonna have a heart attack, but I'm okay."

"Don't worry, whoever that bastard was. He'll pay, sir!" The soldier replied.

Seras was about to reply when she had noticed the man had twice addressed her as 'sir.' Discreetly as she could, she let her eyes glide over the rank insignia on her shoulder. Three chevrons sitting atop two 'rockers' indicated her rank, but she didn't know exactly what.

However, what really caught her eye was a patch immediately below it. A black patch adorned her upper arm, holding the image of a rather vicious looking fox carrying a combat knife in its mouth. The words written atop and along the side immediately alerted her to how deep into these new events she had gotten herself into were.

**FOXHOUND Special Force Group.**

"Sergeant," the other soldier intoned. Seras looked to him, correctly assuming the squad leader was addressing her.

"Yes sir?" Seras asked, noticing the bronze bar of a Second Lieutenant on the man's shoulder.

"We've got off the horn with HQ. We'll find your intruder." The man hooked the radio onto the back of his belt. "In the meantime, just remember..."

He paused just to ensure Seras was paying attention.

"If you need to make a radio call, press the SELECT button."

Seras blinked, not sure if she had heard that right.

"I beg your pardon sir?"

"You know," the lieutenant answered pulling his own radio back out again. "The SELECT button." He indicated a button clearly labeled SELECT in all capital letters. "Don't ask me why they labeled them like that. I didn't make them."

"Oh right," Seras laughed faintly. "Of course."

"And if you see any intruders, take aim and press the action button to fire."

"Yes, obvi..." Seras paused again, processing the man's words. "...action button?"

"Uh..." The lieutenant said slightly embarrassed as he raised his shotgun to demonstrate something. "You know. This thing here that you wrap your finger around." He let go of the trigger but pointed at it for emphasis.

"You mean the trigger?"

"Yes, that's it!" The man chuckled sheepishly. "No matter what, I keep forgetting what that part is called." He shook his head. "But regardless, firing is useless if you don't aim the damn thing and can't see your target. Press and hold R1 to go into first person view."

"...What?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...If you ever need a break or a moment to assess your situation in a firefight, just press the START button to-..."

"Permission to leave sir?" Seras said a little too quickly.

"...Uh," the officer seemed a bit surprised by the imposter's outburst. "Permission granted."

* * *

As Alucard walked through the seemingly deserted streets, his vampiric senses told him that he was not alone. So it came as little shock when a horde of ghouls rushed at him from one of the abandoned subway tunnel entrances. The vampire grinned as he pulled out his Jackal and began firing into the mass of rotted flesh. 'Father Time' was back on the job, so Alucard figured he could make just as big a mess as he wanted to, and the old geezer would clean it up for him.

_Besides, serves him right for trying to make me his errand boy._ The vampire thought as he laughed manically and emptied his whole clip into the advancing mob. As Alucard stopped for a moment and clicked his next clip into place, he was mildly surprised to see a rapid succession of red beams wiz by him and impact the still advancing mob. As the smell of seared, rotted flesh filled the air, more conventional fire was added to the red beams; and the vampire heard a whirling sound and people shouting behind him. "Yeah, take that, ya lilly livered ghouls. Hoorah!"

The vampire turned to see five dirty, but well armed men firing, what appeared to be large Mini guns, in over lapping fields of fire. Somewhat perturbed that these humans saw fit to intervene in his fun, the vampire shouted, "Hey! What do you think you're doing!"

The whirling, of the different barrels being rapidly moved into firing positions, quieted... then stopped; but it was too late. All that remained of the ghouls was a rotten pile of flesh and ash. The vampire shadow shifted over to the man toting the 'laser Gatling-gun', assuming that the man with the most advanced weaponry would be the leader.

Alucard had the muzzle of his gun pressed against the man's head before anyone even saw the vampire move. "You ruined my fun." The vampire growled threateningly.

"Ru-ruined your fun?" The man asked with a look of fear and confusion on his face. "We saved your life. Those ghouls would've ripped you to shreds!"

"You think I needed help, from you?" Alucard laughed and, feeling rather amused by the idea, lowered his gun. "So, who are you guys anyway?"

"Just some mercs who were hired to clear area of the city. Seems the Brotherhood wants to move some freight through it, but they didn't want to spare the paladins to clear it themselves. So they farmed the contract out."

"Paladins?" The vampire asked. Perhaps their was still a chance for him to have some fun, after all. "Are they Catholic?"

The men cast strange looks at each other. "Um, the ones who hired us were Lyons' Pride."

"Oh." Alucard replied, trying to cover up the fact that he'd never heard of the group. "Do they have blessed silver weapons?" He asked, a hint of hope and anticipation just barely evident in his voice.

Again the men exchanged strange looks. "Uh, they carry mostly Mini guns and Gatling lasers, a lot like what we've got. But they're also encased in power armor, and a couple of them have Missile launchers and Fatmans."

"Some of them are overweight?"

"What? No! Fatmans. You know, mini-nuke launchers."

"Oh yes, of course." The vampire replied though he didn't have the foggiest idea what the men were talking about. "I just miss heard you."

An uneasy "Yeah," was the response given by the man wielding the Gatling laser. "Um, we should be going now. Got to report back and collect our caps." He continued in a hopeful tone.

"What, oh yes. Fine. Be gone with you." The vampire replied before remembering his list. "Wait!"

The departing man gulped but turned back towards the 'guy' who'd had a very large hand gun pressed against his head not more than three minutes ago. "Yes?"

Alucard removed the list from his pocket, unfolded it and showed it to the man. "Where can I find this stuff?"

The man looked at the list then gave the vampire a hard stare.

"What?" Alucard asked in an annoyed tone.

"It's just... you don't look like a big chem user."

Not knowing what a chem user was, Alucard simply replied. "It's not for me."

"Right... sure." The man said in a suspicious voice; but after receiving a glare from the vampire, the man quickly continued. "Uh, most of the stuff on here's pretty common. You could purchase it from most doctors and a few shop keeps." The man pointed at a broken aircraft carrier in the distance. "Rivet City's over there. You shouldn't have a hard time finding a vendor for the common stuff there. But as for the Ultrajet and the Nuka-cola Quantums, you're just going to have to look around. I'm afraid that I don't have any idea where to find them, though someone on the boat may be able to give you a tip."

* * *

Three hours walking between only a few floors in the same building was growing tiring and repetitive, but Seras hadn't gotten complacent. Her uniform had come with a Level 4 Security card, which was just short of letting her out of the northern entrance. The door demanded Level 5 Security Clearance.

The building was apparently a maintenance garage for armored vehicles. Two M1 Abrams tanks and a handful of crates filled the main floor. The second floor was primarily narrow walkways and catwalks connecting to storage rooms for various equipment and weapons. Next to the Level 5 exit was an elevator, but Seras hadn't been sure whether or not to use it, not wanting to dig herself in deeper with the locals.

Speaking of whom, a small handful of soldiers patrolled the tank hangar with Seras. Unlike the troops outside, however, they wore the same green and black uniform she was disguised with. They also walked around in similarly repetitive, predictable routes that admittedly took them past some strategic areas. However, they had paused their patrols occasionally for some mildly informative conversations.

So far, there had been little talk of the ninja or his antics, and morale around the base seemed very high. While she dared not ask for fear of looking stupid, the soldiers mentioned more than once that they hated being stationed in Alaska, which certainly narrowed things down for the Hellsing agent.

Most perplexingly, she once heard the soldiers talking about a "revolution" occurring recently, and about some liquid calling the President about some big boss that they hero-worshipped if the reverence the name came with were any indication. To say nothing of some gear made of metal (as if gears could be made of anything else) they said the liquid was going to use.

Whatever this revolution entailed, however, likely did not involve dressing up as Indians and dumping crates of tea in the nearest harbor.

She walked downstairs to see if there was any way she could discreetly get more information from the talkative goons, but a guttural noise brought her attention elsewhere.

**Grrrrrr...**

Seras' eyes swung to her right to see, of all things, a wolf standing by one of the Abrams. A closer look showed Seras its bared fangs under curled back lips.

_Does it know I'm a vampire?_ Seras had seen more than a few movies where canines had a preternatural ability to detect all things evil. The creature before her may have been more lupine than man's best friend, but she was less focused on what a wild animal was doing in such a supposedly secure garage than on why her presence agitated it. Seras took some relief from sensing the animal was a natural wolf rather than its monstrous counterpart, but aggressive stance aside, something felt very "off" about it.

That may have just been why she took a few steps back when it slowly advanced on her.

_Get a hold of yourself Seras, that thing isn't a ninja!_ She chided. _Wolves can't be ninja, right?_ To her dismay, even her own thoughts didn't sound reassuring.

She would have backed herself into a corner had the elevator doors behind her not opened with a comforting _ding!_ But the alternative wasn't much better.

"Oomph!"

Seras' superior balance allowed her to recover from the mobile and soft barrier that had stopped her backwards walk. It was enough to make her forget about the wolf and turn around to face the elevator passenger she had offended.

About a half dozen figures stood in the elevator she had backed towards, the one she bumped into standing just outside the opening. Looking up ever so slightly got her an evil eye far more menacing than the wolf she had been trying to distance herself from.

He was an above average specimen, rather prominently built for someone in his early thirties. He carried himself with no small amount of arrogance, but also had the air of a veteran warrior. An unbuttoned trench coat revealed a shirtless, muscular torso and a pair of dog tags hanging over his chest. On his head sat a mop of golden hair, but its long and wavy style seemed more befitting an 80's rock star than a soldier.

And as misfortune would have it, he had a glare that sent shivers down Seras' spine. Sure, she could sense that he was completely human...the same way Sir Integra, Walter, and Iscariot's membership were 'completely human.' For some reason she didn't feel safe around this man just because she was a vampire and he wasn't.

Before anything unhealthy came of this unexpected staring contest, a voice spoke up as one of the elevator's passengers exited the elevator car.

"Berthold," a woman leaving the car commanded sharply. "Settle down."

Almost instantly, the snarling that had frightened Seras had silenced. Turning around gave her the sight of a woman kneeling over the wolf that had backed her into this mess. She had gently grabbed the animal by the scruff of his neck and waved her finger in its face as if to say "Bad dog! You leave that poor vampire alone! She didn't snarl at you, did she?!"

Rising to her feet gave Seras a better look at the new woman. She wore a light blue jumpsuit and black combat boots, complemented by matching gloves. A thin, black dog collar was buckled around her neck. Her shoulder also boasted the same FOXHOUND insignia Seras' uniform had.

Her hair was blonde with a greenish tint to it, but looking at her somewhat pale complexion, Seras thought it might have been dyed. Despite her light skin tone, her features seemed Middle Eastern, though she wasn't sure, especially considering what little she heard of her voice. It seemed to have an accent of European origin, but it was so vague it could have been French as easily as it could have been Russian.

She had almost forgotten the blond man until she was gently but rudely shoved aside from behind.

"Wolf," The trench-coated man began, his accent unmistakably British, and annoyed. "You really have to start putting a collar on him."

"He's usually more placid than this," her voice betrayed no feeling of intimidation. Her statement was matter of fact and held only the mildest of surprise. "I'm sure that won't be necessary."

"Wolf, he pounced me and tried to rip my throat out during my first day in the unit," the man reprimanded. "I hardly call that 'placid.'"

The woman glared at her male companion, but gave no verbal reply.

"_Coño_, Liquid," said a new person stepping out of the elevator, or rather, the same man she bumped into...or rather the same man who had already walked out of the elevator. Seras' eyes darted from left to right to make sure she wasn't seeing double, but to her surprise, an identical looking, identically dressed man stepped up to his twin. The only visible difference was the fedora sitting on top of his head. "Are you **ever** going to let that go?" While the man's voice sounded largely the same as his twin, his accent was clearly Mexican, not British.

Seras wasn't sure what to make of the fact that the man was unfazed by the sight of his twin. Rather, he seemed just as annoyed as when Seras bumped into him.

"I think we have more important things to deal with than pet discipline, Octopus."

"Liquid is right," a deep, monotonous voice answered before Seras felt the slight shaking of heavy footfalls draw her attention back to the elevator once more. What stepped out was a mountain of a man, his dark skin stretched to the breaking point with an impossible mass of muscle. He wore no shirt, which showed off not only his barely human physique, but revealed half his skin was covered in angular black Native American petroglyphs. None of the tattoos resembled anything Seras could identify...

...Except a large, black raven tattooed to his forehead, its wings spread in a triumphant, yet ominous fashion. Overall, the man reminded her of a shorter, more 'human' version of Incognito.

"We've controlled this island for a day, and even with Mantis' 'help,' they're getting antsy." He redirected his sight to the hatless twin. "Are you sure you're ready to go through with this?"

'Liquid' as the others had addressed him, paced across the floor back to the giant. "Our course was set in stone once we detained Baker and Anderson." His expression was grim, but determined. "Even if I wasn't ready, we hardly have a choice at this point. It's not like we can bribe Baker's mouth shut if we change our minds."

"And I doubt he'll want to keep it shut after what I've done to him..." an all-too familiar raspy voice called from the elevator.

Seras' eyes were once again drawn to the door when two more figures exited...two she thought and hoped she'd never see again.

The first one to emerge was wearing a heavy, insulated trench coat this time, but the orange-eyed mask and bald head left little doubt to the man's identity. Seras focused to make sure she wasn't hearing things, but against all odds, the ghost she encountered mere days earlier (or what felt like days earlier) was now suddenly flesh and blood. Psycho Mantis was alive in every sense of the word.

But even that shock didn't compare to seeing the familiar mustachioed cowboy who had spoken earlier. Somehow the man now had both of his arms back on his body, but even though she had only met him once, it was impossible to believe the last man out of the elevator was anyone other than Revolver Ocelot.

"Did you get Baker's code, Ocelot," Liquid asked. "We can't wait much longer to let Washington know what we're up to."

"You can phone El Presidente whenever you want, sir," Ocelot replied. "I have the codes, now all you have to do is make some threats and pick your targets."

_Threats? Targets?_ Seras thought, trying to process the incomplete 'Big Picture' that she realized she was missing out on. _What did I get myself into?_

Unfortunately, thinking proved to be a huge mistake. As soon as those words moved through her head, her peripheral vision caught Mantis' face turning towards her.

As Liquid and Ocelot conversed, the Psychic quickly hovered towards the vampire girl and stared her in the eye. The girl reflexively took a step back as unblinking eyes beneath the orange eyeholes bored into her soul.

"Mantis, are you quite finished violating our men's personal space?" Liquid asked snidely. The psychic did not reply but mercifully stood back. If he had found out who she really was, there'd be trouble. "We have to keep a schedule here."

Giving Seras one last look, the Russian psychic turned away from her and backed off. Seras was still tense, but for whatever reason, Mantis didn't seem like he was going to rat her out.

"You!" the only other English person in the hangar shouted to Seras. "I suggest you tag along Sergeant, there's **history** to be made soon enough, and I'm sure you don't want to miss out!"

Despite conscious awareness that she had no idea who the trench-coated man was, his voice resonated with enough authority that her soldierly instincts kicked in. She soon found herself approaching the blond, who, along with his entourage, decided to walk out of the hangar through the Level 5 garage door.

_Just fall in line and don't look him in the eye_.

The strange string of words that filled Seras' head made her hesitate again. It was not the same one that bade her to hide in a cardboard box, nor did it have the menacing, raspy quality of Mantis, who didn't even seem to be paying attention to her.

_And don't even think of touching the woman. Just because you're a vampire doesn't mean I won't hesitate to maul you._

Despite the fact that the words came as thoughts rather than speech, Seras felt she could almost pinpoint the direction they were coming from. Turning around, she expected to see Mantis, Zorin, maybe find out one of the other guards in the area were similarly 'gifted.'

Instead, the only living thing she could find was the same wolf before with a stone cold glare in its eyes. Could it have...

...No, no, _a thousand times no_. She thought to herself. _I'm just imagining things, just like with the box._

_You heard the box?_

A jump and a flustered squeak came from Seras.

"I'm not hearing your footsteps Sergeant," the blond soldier said a little too loudly. "Do I have to throw you in the brig with the hostages?"

"Uh, coming sir!" Seras said, relieved to have an excuse to put distance between herself and this madhouse. _Hostages? Good God, I wish someone would tell me what's going on_.

* * *

"Call you Master?" Dracula scoffed. "You think I'll be your 'pet'?" His lips pulled back into a challenging smile, revealing his fangs. "That I'm some wild dog to be tamed!" The monster lunged at the knight, pulling against his chains again, even though he knew he'd come up short once more.

Still Integra refused to jump. The vampire growled. "If it weren't for these chains, you'd be nothing more than a bloody smear on the floor." He chuckled darkly as he moved back to his seat.

"Indeed?" Integra smirked. "Then let's test that, shall we?"

"Huh?" A puzzled look passed over the Count's face as Integra removed a key from her pocket.

The knight tossed the key to the vampire. "Go ahead. Unlock your chains."

"You are a fool." The vampire growled.

Integra grinned coyly. "A fool, am I? You have the key, yet you haven't even put it in the lock. Now why is that, I wonder?" The knight taunted. "Do you need me to do it for you?" She challenged.

"You really want to die, don't you?" The vampire asked, and Integra let out a half chuckle as her response. "Or perhaps it's something else that you want." Dracula inserted the key and turned it. The silver chains immediately clanged to the floor. "You're still a virgin. I can smell it on you. Do you want to join me? Is that it, little one?" Dracula bared his fangs again. "Do you want me to turn you?"

Normally a woman would react with a mixture of revulsion, fear and intrigue when the Count offered them such a choice. But Integra just laughed. "Mix my blood with yours? I don't think so." The knight snorted.

Anger flashed in the Count's face; and he lunged at the knight for once again, this time without any chains to hold him back. Her virgin blood called to him, and he went for her neck. But before his fangs could pierce Integra's skin, her fist collided with his jaw, knocking him off course and causing him to land on the carriage floor.

The vampire half growled, half huffed; and the knight asked, "Why do you insist on these games?"

"This is no game!" The vampire roared as he picked himself up.

"Really, then why so slow? You're much faster than that when you want to be."

Dracula eyed the strange woman for a moment then huffed. Without another word, he went back to his seat; and the knight and the vampire resumed their silent staring.

It was another hour before either spoke again. "Night's fallen." Integra commented.

"So it has."

"Your powers should be at their peak now."

"They are."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So why aren't you trying to escape?"

Dracula snorted. "I will escape in my own time."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"And what made you think I would?"

"Insolent servant, when I ask you a question, I expect an answer."

The Count growled. "I am not your servant." Integra just stared at him with hard eyes. After a moment, the vampire sighed and continued. "You are a... unique woman. It would be a waste to kill you. I will make my escape later."

"Bollocks! You could escape without even coming near me. Just shadow shift through the cracks in the wood behind your back. And I'm sure you've thought of that. So, why are you still here?"

Dracula turned away. The real reason he'd stayed was because the woman was unlike any he'd ever met... or was likely to again. He wanted to be around her more than he wanted his freedom... not that he would admit it. So he changed the subject instead. "You are aware of a vampire's... 'needs', aren't you. In order to survive, the dead must feed upon the blood of the living."

"Yes, of course I am aware of that. That is the one thing that every single human account of your kind shares!" Integra sounded insulted. "Why would you ask such a stupid question?"

"I am merely wondering, since you intend to... 'tame' me, how do you plan to deal with my needs? Are you going to bring me pretty little things to suck dry, whenever I am hungry?" The vampire asked with a toothy grin. "I've never had another select and bring me prey before. It could be... interesting."

Integra scoffed. "Most certainly not. When you feed, it will be upon the blood of other vampires. As long as they have fed recently, their blood will quench your thirst."

The Count's face fell slightly as he replied. "True. It is possible to feed off the blood of other vampires. In fact, it adds their power to yours, making you even stronger. But..." The vampire paused before continuing, "there are not many vampires in the world. You could hardly expect me to survive on them alone."

"That will change, Alucard. That will change. Someday the world will be crawling with a new bread of vampires, ones you will be only too happy to exterminate. But rest assured, your needs will be met in the mean time. There is a new procedure that allows us to extract small amounts of blood from humans, without causing them any lasting ill effects. When necessary, blood will be gathered in this way and provided to you."

"Alucard?" The Count questioned; and for the first time, Integra's face registered surprise, though it was only for the briefest of moments. "Have you confused me with someone else?"

Integra recovered in a flash. "No, that will be your name form now on. Dracula is too infamous for our purposes. The crown would be reluctant to go along if they knew who you'd been."

"Been?"

"Yes. Count Dracula died back at his castle. Besides, any master has a right to name her 'pet'." Integra's smile was a coy one, but it held a hint of genuine mirth.

And the vampire found himself unconsciously returning the gesture. As soon as he realized it though, he wiped the grin from his face and continued in a low tone. "So, I am to drink cold blood mixed from the... 'offerings' of various people. That does not sound very appetizing... 'Master'."

The vampire's last word was said in a slight mocking tone and laced with a bit of sarcasm, but it was the first time he'd used the term to refer to her. So, Integra let the insolence pass... for now. "We are not here to make you comfortable, vampire. The donated blood will serve to keep you alive, and that is enough for our purposes."

(Well, we both hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please Review and let us know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	12. The Games We Play

**The Games We Play.**

"I already told ya, Big Red. Three bottles of Buffout, five inhalers of Jet, two tins of Mentats, four syringes of Med-X and three Psychos ill cost ya five hundred caps."

Alucard snarled and reached across the small table that had been turned into a makeshift stand. He grabbed the vendor by the collar and hoisted the man a foot off the ground. Then the vampire drew his large hand gun and pointed it at the man's head. "How about I just 'cap' you and take what I want for nothing?" The No-Life King threatened with a sadistic grin on his face.

The vendor just chuckled. "Oh man, you've made a BIG mistake. Our new security chief's gonna have your ass on a platter."

"Oh, really?" Alucard asked in a slightly playful tone.

"You bet. She's one tough as nails bitch, even tougher than Harkness."

There was a shout of, "Hey, what the bloody Hell do you think you're doing?!" behind the two men.

Alucard continued to hold the vendor, but turned his head to see this 'tough as nails bitch.' However, as the ancient vampire caught sight of the new security chief, his brow knit, "Police Girl?"

Seras's eyes went wide as she saw the face of the 'man' holding the vendor. "Master?"

"What the..." The vendor exclaimed. "You two know each other?"

"Uh... yeah." Seras replied, her normally strong voice wavering for just a moment. "From a LONG time ago." Then the security chief looked back over at her old master. "So, what brings you to Rivet City? I haven't seen you since you took up the guise of the Mysterious Stranger and started playing guardian angel to the last remnants of the Hellsing bloodline."

"W-w-wait." The vendor stuttered nervously and pointed to the large 'man' holding him. "T-That's the... the M-m-mysterious S-strange... S-stranger?" Seras nodded, and the vendor gulped. "T-take the chems... take anything you want. Ain't no way, I wanna get on the Mysterious Stranger's bad side."

Alucard turned back to the terrified vendor. "In that case..." The vampire flashed a toothy smile before continuing. "Bag it!" Then Alucard released his grip.

The vendor fell to the floor and scrambled around, looking for some kind of bag to put the chems in. He'd never had to bag a sale before. Everyone just carried the chems in their hands. But if the Mysterious Stranger wanted them in a bag, the vendor wasn't about to refuse. After a full minute of searching and an annoyed glare from Alucard, a glare that made the vendor's blood seem to freeze, he finally took off his own shirt and used it to wrap up the chems. "H-here you go, S-sir."

Alucard roughly took the bundle then didn't give the vendor another thought. The ancient vampire turned to his one time fledgling. "So, Police Girl, how did you get here?"

"Um... this really isn't a good place to talk." Seras replied while indicating the crowd that was slowly gathering around them. Then she raised her voice. "Hey, Danvers!"

Another woman, one in similar garb to Seras, turned then walked over to the female vampire. "Yeah, Seras?"

"Cover for me awhile, will you? I just found... an old friend, and we have a bit of catching up to do."

"Sure thing. Should've been my job anyway." The other girl, Danvers, replied half jokingly.

Seras let out a little chuckle before turning back to Alucard. "Come on, Master. I've got a room in the Weatherly Hotel. We can talk there." Seras began to walk away, and Alucard, after hesitating a moment, fell in step behind her.

Once the two vampires exited the market place, the gossip started to fly. "Master, huh?"

"Yeah, didn't know our new chief was into that kind of stuff."

"Kinky."

"You bet. Gonna have to pay more attention to her."

"Speaking of betting, what do you wanna bet 'talking' is the last thing they plan to do in that hotel room?"

"Oh yeah, love to be a Radroach under that bed."

"Ewww! You men are such pigs." Danvers commented before walking away from the small group and resuming her patrol.

* * *

"Boss," Mantis hissed as he hovered over to Liquid's side. "We may have a bit of a security risk in our ranks."

Liquid did not seem perturbed at all by Mantis' sudden warning. Rather, his expression shifted to slightly annoyed. "If you're talking about Ocelot's 'condition,' we've got enough Thioz...Thiozurl..." He fumbled over the word as if he was trying to say the name of a mind-rending Lovecraftian abomination.

"Thioazurlamide," Mantis quickly corrected. "But it's not Ocelot I'm worried about..." Mantis paused, quickly contemplating what he had just said. "Okay, so I **am** worried about Ocelot, but he's not the one I'm talking about."

The Russian psychic gave a quick backwards glance at the object of his concerns, an ill-at-ease soldier who was trying to keep as much distance between "himself" and FOXHOUND's leadership as possible. He could sense that the grunt seemed particularly wary of him and Ocelot but didn't prod any more than he already had in their first encounter.

"That Sergeant following us is no soldier," Mantis warned.

"A spy, perhaps?"

"Worse," Mantis corrected. "He's **delusional**...He thinks he's a vampire."

As shocking as this revelation was, Liquid did not change his pace at all, hoping to keep up appearances.

"A vampire **woman**..." Mantis repeated with emphasis. "...from the **future**, who can see **ghosts**! I don't know about you, sir, but I trust him as far as I can throw him," immediately anticipating a witty response from Liquid, he added "...with my **arms**." He raised his withered limbs for emphasis.

The Englishman's response was to remain silent and stroke his chin thoughtfully. Mantis was about to read his mind when Liquid finally spoke again.

"...All the more reason to keep him on duty." He blurted.

"What?" Mantis was tempted to read his mind for the answer, but Liquid, a man who loved to hear himself talk, would have none of it.

"If your little gambit is to succeed Mantis, we need to handicap ourselves as much as possible without giving our intent away." His mind further analyzed the possibilities. "Placing someone like that in a position of strategic importance will make it all the easier for someone, say...oh, you know who, to make progress to the REX hangar and 'deactivate' our trump card."

His mask didn't show it, but Mantis' lips curled into a sinister smile. "I can certainly see the wisdom in that, boss," Liquid didn't show it either, but surprise passed through his mind like an elephant stampede. Getting praise from Mantis was like getting empathy out of The Joker.

* * *

Seras's enhanced vampiric hearing, of course, picked up on the conversation 'Liquid' was having with the frail bodied psychic. _So he did read my mind. He just doesn't believe what he found, thinks I'm some kind of bloody lunatic. And they're going to keep me around __**because**_ _I'm a security risk? They __**want **__to fail their mission? Just what the..._

Seras lost her train of thought as an impossibly strong hand clamped down across her mouth. The vampire attempted to scream, but the hand muffled the noise into what sounded like grumbles. The men (and one woman) in front of her turned back for a moment, and Liquid arched an eyebrow at her. But then he just shook his head and continued on.

Seras briefly wondered why he would do such a thing, but then the vampire realized that there was only one logical explanation. The hand across her mouth belonged to a ghost; and Liquid, being unable to see it, had simply chalked her 'grumbling' and struggling up to her supposed 'insanity'.

Well at least, if it was a ghost, Seras had a trick up her sleeve. She moved her own hand over the ghost's and closed her eyes, preparing to banish it back to the limbo from which it came. But then a cold barrel was pressed against the side of Seras' head and she heard a familiar voice exclaim, "Try it, und I blow your pretty head off."

Seras instantly recognized the voice as the one belonging to the Millennium Major. Somehow, two of the enemy ghosts had followed her to... wherever she was. _I wonder if there's more of them?_

As if to answer the nexus's unspoken question, the Doctor and Zorin chose that moment to step out of the left wall. "Vhy not just blow her head off now?" The latter asked. "Or better yet..." The ghost held out an arm and summoned her giant scythe. "Let me cut it off?"

The reaper began to near Seras, but then a menacing low growl came from somewhere behind the nexus and halted Zorin's advance. Seras recognized that the ghost holding her had to be the werewolf captain. _Well, at least I know why I couldn't break free._

"Now, now, Zorin, you aren't thinking straight." The pudgy Major chided. "Ve need ze Hellsing nexus to keep us anchored to zis existence. Vithout her ve'd just dissolve avay into floating balls of ectoplasm."

"Errrr." Zorin growled. "Ocelot's here. Ve can use him."

The major chuckled. "Have you forgotten? His nexus powers are still in lockdown. Ve can't use him yet." The major walked around the Hellsing nexus, trailing the barrel of his pistol across her face. "So, for now, ve keep her alive, at least as long as she's villing to be a gut nexus." The Millennium commander stared at the vampire with a look that made her want to cringe, though Seras did manage to resist the impulse. "You vill be a good nexus, von't you?"

Seras gulped and nodded.

The major's lip curled slightly. "Good girl." Then he snapped his fingers. "Hans."

Instantly, the werewolf released his grip on the nexus vampire.

She almost fell, but her superior reflexes and sense of balance saved her. "You best catch back up. Vouldn't vant to get left behind." The major cooed a little too close to the vampire's ear.

Seras looked back up at the—still living—group, entering the door ahead and rushed back to them.

* * *

The hallway beyond the door was narrow, and the soldiers in front of her could only walk single-file down it. Seras walked as quickly as she could without drawing any unnecessary attention to herself, but it was difficult when several of her most dangerous enemies were less than an arm's length behind her. They may have not felt like killing her at the moment, but it went without saying that it was discomforting.

Of course, once the hallway opened to a catwalk over a small drainage ditch, her fears were directed more at something right in front of her.

The room was massive. It was wider than a basketball court and several stories tall, and the new focus for her growing anxiety demonstrated why such a room was necessary.

Filling almost the entire three stories of height the underground bunker rose was a titanic metal monstrosity. It was a towering vehicle of gunmetal green armor supported by what looked like thick, hydraulically powered legs. Despite its already gargantuan size, the legs were positioned so closely to the body that it looked as though it were squatting. And between them Seras could swear there appeared to be a rather...suggestively placed cannon of some sort.

The head of the dormant beast itself was the real eye-catcher. The center of the head stuck out from the broader section of the machine, suggesting a dinosaur-like creature. The machine had no arms to speak of, but on its right "shoulder," a long pronged rail cannon jutted out from its side, and on the right was a large, forward facing plate. Seras was too awestruck by the sight as a whole to begin contemplating either feature's purpose.

"And zhat, mein fraulein," The Major began with his wicked grin, "is the only reason these mere mortals could ever outstrip us monsters."

"Wh-wh..." Seras stuttered, barely registering the mad Sturmbannfuerher's words. "What **is that?**" She asked as loudly as she dared, unconsciously approaching a crowd of assembled soldiers.

"Ze logical conclusion of vhat happens vhen zhese uneducated Yankee hillbillies first split the atom sixty years ago," The Doctor said stepping forward. "A machine zhat vill tip ze balance of power in this Post-Cold War blandness..."

"...and now it is in ze hands of men und vomen who appreciate ze bottomless joy of **krieg!**" The Major finished. However, his toothy grin shrank slightly before continuing. "Eet is a pity zhat they still need zomezink as trivial as 'objectives' and 'motives' to drive their bloodlust though."

Before Seras could slip out of her shock to ask the portly officer what he was talking about, her attention was drawn to Liquid, standing tall atop a platform at the foot of the demon weapon that had once commanded her attention. The man had apparently started speaking without her, and his speech was already winding down...

However, her focus on him was broken when, in addition to the other five FOXHOUND agents, two familiar forms stood directly behind the Commander. The scythe-wielding man-woman and the towering Captain still stuck out among a menagerie of already strange individuals. If anyone else in the room was aware of them, they didn't show it.

"Ah, you've noticed zem already," The Major intoned. "I just vant you to know that they are present to make sure you don't do anyzink absolutely foolish, like say..." The Major once again looked over the towering machine. "Deztroy zhat."

Before Seras could ask why the giant robot was so important, Liquid went and opened his pie-hole again.

"...Gentleman," the blond soldier intoned. "The work my father started was done in the name of men like you." He slowly swept his eyes over every masked face in the room. "**You**," he continued. "The strength and defenders of your countries, your governments, your people..." he paused briefly before grimly adding: "...and tools to serve the whims of Ivy League elitists' agendas. On the battlefield, you are valuable commodities..." the pride in his voice was then swept away by his next words. "...at home, you're just dead weight. Scorned, aimless, and neglected by the politicians you served. **That,** is why we are here today!"

"Such zeal, such charisma, such anger!" The Major delighted. "A man after my own heart if I do say so myself. He vould have made a **fine** addition to our ranks, if only such dreams did not hold him back."

"But to what end," Seras queried, keeping her attention on Liquid. "Why do they need, well...**that?!**" She said gesturing to the strange war machine behind him.

Before either villain could answer her, the FOXHOUND Commander continued.

"Friends, today marks a new beginning in the history of mankind. Today will see the rise of a new world power. In short..." Liquid pumped his fist in an unusual but powerful gesture. "...A military nation that will make the Spartans look like Daisy-Chain weaving girl scouts."

He folded his arms behind his back, once again glaring at the faceless, intimidated crowd.

"These first few hours will be the most dangerous. The American government will do their best to stop our revolution before we can reveal their secrets to the world. And it'll be my twin brother they send to stop us."

At that comment, Seras blinked, her attention was then divided between Liquid and his fedora-clad body double. _If that's not his twin, then who...?_

"Most of you stand little chance of surviving against the man with the most dominant genes on the planet..."

Seras' attention was snatched away from Liquid once more as Dok loudly brought a palm to his face, as though the last words out of Liquid's mouth were a personal insult. A brief glance back at the stage showed Mantis making a similar, equally offended gesture.

"...Nevertheless, I know I'll be able to count on each and every one of you to stand with me..." having not expected any sharp-eared vampires to be in the spacious room with him, he softly added "...thanks to Mantis' brainwashing." Finally, his attention drifted away from his men as he gave a certain mustached cowboy a sideways glance. "Ocelot?"

The cowboy marched up to the other man's side, holding out a cell phone for the leader. "We're connected," he answered an unasked question.

"Ready for this, bud?" Liquid's question turned out to be entirely rhetorical, as he plucked the phone out of Ocelot's hands and began dialing before he could answer.

However, a cocky smile folded into place on the old man's face. "Life wouldn't be worth living without someone to double-cross."

At last, the phone met Liquid's ear, the man himself unfazed as the eyes of every man, woman, and Nazi ghost bore down on him.

After seven seconds of unbearable silence, Liquid grinned as someone on the other end answered.

"...Good evening, Mr. President…"

* * *

The magic incantation finished. The walls of the underground chamber shook. The floor glowed red with ancient symbols and similar ones appeared in the Count's white gloves. Van Helsing was quite pleased by the sight. "Yes, pitiful No-Life King. Now you will obey your master."

The Count just laughed manically, as the red symbols that had appeared on his gloves began to fade. "You, my master? I don't think so. Your will is not equal to mine. You could never be my master!" The ancient vampire laughed again as the symbols faded completely.

"Drat. I thought we had him that time, Mr. Van Helsing." John Seward commented.

"Arh!" Abraham exclaimed as he slammed his book shut. "He is a most stubborn creature." The Helsing cast a glare at the chained vampire before turning to the blonde woman sitting in the corner. "I fear we may run out of time. The Round Table meeting is in two days, and if we haven't broken him by then... If we have to drag him in, in chains... I doubt the other knights will go for your plan."

"Leave us." Integra commanded.

The other 'vampire hunters' stared for a brief moment but then relented. After all, in the week since they'd captured the monster, she'd made more progress with him than the rest of them combined; and most of that progress had been made during times when the two of them were alone.

As the other hunters ascended the staircase and opened the door to leave, Arthur Holmwood turned to Abraham Van Helsing. "What do you think she does when it's just the two of them?"

"I don't know." Abraham confessed. "But mark my words... There is a history between those two."

As soon as the other hunters had left, Integra walked over and unlocked the vampire's chains. He didn't find it at all strange. She never kept him chained up when it was just the two of them. As the vampire worked his hands over the calluses that were forming on his wrists, he turned to find Integra glaring at him. "You are making things difficult, Alucard."

The Count bristled slightly. He didn't like the fact that Integra had given him a 'pet' name, but still, he would answer to it. "I will not have that man for my master. He has not earned the right."

"He defeated you, Vampire."

"**HE** did not." The Count paused for a moment before continuing. "Nor is his will strong enough to overcome mine and bind me." The Count paused once again, and cast a stare at Integra. "If you want my... 'cooperation', perform the ceremony yourself."

"Out of the question. I am not the one who needs seals in order to control you... or be safe around you."

"And that... is why you have a chance of succeeding where he can only fail... 'Master'." The Count replied.

"Hmm." Integra smirked. "I do not doubt you would accept me as your master. But it is not time for that. One day, Alucard. But not yet."

"One day?" The Count questioned. "If that..." The vampire began, intending to use an obscene term to describe Abraham, but a glare from Integra made the Count rethink his choice of words. "...man binds me to him, I will be bound to him and his until the bloodline fails. My... 'service' will be passed on to his children, not his nieces."

Integra raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm his niece?"

"Well, yes." The count replied, a little confused by the woman's reaction. "You are obviously not his wife, and you are too young to be his sister. So, either a niece... or a cousin."

Integra huffed, sounding rather amused, before replying, "And what if I told you I was his great-granddaughter?"

Now it was the Count's turn to let out an amused huff. "Should've gone with daughter. I might've believed that. But he is not old enough to have a granddaughter your age, never mind a **great**-granddaughter." The vampire huffed again, then turned away from the woman. "And you should be careful with the lies. Given your current circumstance, lying to a powerful, unchained vampire could be dangerous." The Count warned, but then his body tensed as he felt a finger curl around his chin. The vampire's head was turned until his eyes met the woman's.

Integra had removed her glasses and now there was nothing to break the connection. As the knight allowed a vampire to stare directly into her soul, she continued, almost warmly, "I'm not lying."

The woman bared herself, at least for a moment, and the vampire strangely felt no deception from her. How this woman, who was in her twenties, could possibly be the great-granddaughter of a man in his late fifties, the Count had no idea. Yet, she was telling him the truth. "Call them back." The vampire responded.

Integra broke eye contact and replaced her glasses. "You will cooperate?"

The count hung his head but replied, "Yes."

"Good." Integra cooed. She refastened the vampire's chains then began to head for the staircase.

"That was a dangerous... and foolish move, you know?" The Count called out after the knight. Integra turned her head back towards the vampire, and he continued, "Locking eyes with a vampire. Do you have any idea what I could've made you do?"

"Nothing that I wouldn't have done of my own free will." Integra half smiled. "For that would be cheating, and then... the game would be meaningless."

"This is not a game." The Count objected.

Integra's lip curled a little bit more. "Of course it is, Vampire. It always has been, and it always will be. Deny it all you want, yet here we are, taking turns and making moves just as we always have."

The Count's face fell into confusion as he analyzed the woman's statement. "Who are you?"

Integra's lip finally curled into a full blown, if coy, smile. Then, without speaking another word, the woman turned away from the vampire and headed for the door. _Your Countess, just as I've always been._ She replied within the safety of her own head, confident that her future servant could not yet read her mind.

(Well, we both hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please Review and let us know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	13. Strange New Worlds

**Strange New Worlds**

There was a short list of reasons Seras was walking away from the maintenance base housing the monstrous robot—Metal Gear REX, Liquid had called it in his phone conversation with the American President—instead of converting the machine into a scrap heap.

One was the perfectly legitimate argument that she couldn't realistically take on both Zorin and the Captain at the same time without help. While Zorin proved to be pathetically weak once she had completed her transformation into the true undead, it wasn't until Pip's spirit had discovered that tooth with a silver filling that the werewolf Hauptsturmfuehrer would go down. And since both parties were now ghosts, they could simply go intangible whenever she threw a punch. They were practically taunting her by letting her live.

Another reason was the fact that she had no idea what it would take to topple that overgrown tank itself. Even after The Major claimed that their contribution to Liquid's "revolution" was strictly moral support. Regardless, she had less than 24 hours to think it through.

And while it was irrelevant to the subject of destroying REX, Seras was utterly perplexed by the nature of Liquid's demand. There was no exorbitant amount of money, food, or other valuables from the Commander-in-Chief, nor any requests for safe passage or political prisoners. What Liquid wanted above all else was a corpse.

Seras had to cycle that through her brain again: **a corpse**. Not just any either, but the cell samples of a man he identified only as "Big Boss." What they wanted with it was beyond her, but their reasons for getting the body seemed hardly sentimental.

And if those anxieties weren't enough, there were many, many more ravens in this frozen underground warehouse than there were the first time; all of them taking turns dishing out one caw after another. She was so distracted by their presence that she barely noticed the flutter of wings as one hovered above her and lowered itself to her shoulder.

She finally noticed it when its talons ever so lightly gripped her shoulder. They didn't try to break her skin, but what happened next was far more unnerving.

In a flash, Seras felt herself freeze and stiffen, as though she were experiencing instant rigor mortis. She tried to continue pushing herself forward, but she couldn't even crane her neck to continue eyeing her environment.

A loud caw brought her eyes as far to her side as they were allowed, giving her a glimpse of the black feathered fiend in her peripheral vision. Opening her third eye quickly confirmed that the avian was the cause of her paralysis, but she couldn't even guess why.

"Your flesh and blood are tainted by a darkness the likes of which I have not felt on this Earth," a throaty, monotonous voice pierced the freezing mist. Without her sudden magical paralysis, the young woman would have jumped.

Her third eye rapidly scanned the room for the voice's source, falling on a strange mound atop one of the steel crates. The mass itself was covered by an unkindness of ravens...but with her third eye, Seras could see the man underneath. The same tattooed man from the elevator who had been present for Liquid's speech was now sitting in a meditative pose.

"...and yet," the man continued, his ravens loudly fluttering their wings as he rose from the boxes. "...your heart remains uncorrupted." With a mighty leap to the floor, Seras felt like she would tip over as the floor shook with his landing. The giant of a man stood scarcely ten feet away from the vampire, and his expression was unreadable.

Curiously, the raven markings on his forehead were now gone. Was it perhaps some sort of ritual face paint? No, the pattern she remembered was too smooth and precise to have merely rubbed on.

"Tell me, why should I trust that your hunger will not get the best of you?" Despite there being little shift in tone from the shaman, he was obviously not in the mood for nonsense.

"I...I..." Seras fumbled, searching her brain for an answer. "I'm...not hungry right now?" She answered sheepishly, uncertain.

The man had a mean expression, accented by his impressive muscle mass. His eyes narrowed at the Draculina, almost expecting her to make just one little muscle twitch that would prove she was lying. The raven on her shoulder just darted its head around as if it were only sitting atop another statue.

"If that is your answer..." The Indian replied, but instead of finishing his sentence, his focus shifted to the bird. With an ear-splitting caw, the avian spread its wings and leapt off Seras, taking flight to the human. Before Seras could regain her composure, however, her vision went white once again. She expected another ghostly flashback like the one she witnessed in Rokovoj Bereg. Instead, however, she opened her eyes to find everything was the same. The room was still misty and frozen, the flocks of ravens still sat atop the towering stacks of crates, and the tattooed muscleman still stood before her...

...With his raven tattoo magically back in place, and the paralyzing bird gone.

With all the previous mind screws that had afflicted her since arriving...wherever this was, Seras could not bring herself to question the stranger.

"You would do well to make yourself scarce." The shaman said with a grin. "My glimpses of the future are few and unclear, but what I have seen may be among the most...interesting 24 hours of your life."

"You..." Seras could not believe the shaman's words. "You're letting me go?"

"Fate and chance have conspired to bring you to this island, on this day..." he announced. "But for what purpose is not my place to say. Do whatever you will, but be aware that I will not stand by if you act like the beast you have become."

The hulking FOXHOUND operative's words became increasingly ominous as his stare bore into Seras' being. She wanted to talk back, but frankly, half the humans she had met since arriving on this rock were far more intimidating than some of the vampires she had fought and killed.

"I'm glad you see things my way," the Incognito lookalike said in a somewhat more pleasant voice. He turned to leave, but stopped, as if remembering a last minute detail.

"If you ever dare to feed on my comrades, Seras Victoria..." He said turning to face the Draculina once more. Despite the wording of the statement, he did not sound particularly angry. "...Just remember the words of the Arapaho people."

Seras tensed, expecting some sort of heart-stopping, laconic warning. Instead, the man recited...

"Before eating, always take time to thank the food."

Seras blinked again, utterly befuddled by the warning-but-not-a-warning.

Before she could ask for further clarification, the man simply walked behind a crate, leaving Seras to her own devices.

"Hey wait!" Seras shouted, snapping back to her senses. She bolted to the small corridor of boxes the stranger disappeared behind. She turned the corner, expecting to catch up with the man...

...Instead, rounding the bend revealed nothing but mist, and more ravens roosting overhead, their calls echoing in the cold. Seras' still open third eye scanned the room, but alas, nothing.

With nothing left to see, Seras found it best to make haste to the cargo elevator and as far away from this frozen warehouse as possible. Every moment she spent here tested her sanity further and further, and what's more...

...She never told the shaman her name.

* * *

Alucard followed Seras to her room in the rusted out, old aircraft carrier that had somehow become a 'city.' The room itself wasn't much to speak of. In fact it was actually smaller than the one his fledgling had had at Hellsing, and scarcely better furnished. However given the living standards he'd seen so far in this post-apocalyptic future, Alucard guessed it was more than what most people had.

"Close the door, please." Seras requested.

Alucard eyed her for a second. He was not in the habit of following his fledgling's… 'instructions'… even if they were phrased politely. But then if the spirit who sent him to the future was telling the truth, over two and a half centuries had passed. Doubtless his fledgling would've become more independent with that many lifetimes under her belt. So Alucard waved his hand and used his telekinetic powers to close the door.

Seras smiled and turned to her fridge. She pulled out two blood packets and tossed one to her old master. "So, what brings you to Rivet City?"

Alucard caught the blood packet then sat down on a nearby wooden seat, one that was rough and misshapen enough that the ancient vampire wondered if his fledgling had carved it herself. Certainly it was not made in any factory. "Well after I killed Ocelot and the universe began to unravel, I was sucked into another dimension where I met Death. Then he told me that I'd messed up the time stream and sent me back to the sixties to search for Father Time. Apparently the old 'hippie' was the only one who could fix the time stream and get everything back to normal. So, I found father time, and he said he'd fix things... but only if I got the things on his shopping list. Then he dumped me here, and now I've got to find the rest of the stuff on his list in order to get back to… 'when' I belong." Alucard replied nonchalantly, as if such events were a common occurrence in his life. He then sunk his fangs into the blood pack.

Seras stared at him with wide eyes before replying, "Master, what are you talking about? Who's Ocelot?"

Alucard looked at his fledgling as if she'd asked something as foolish as who Alexander Anderson was. "Ocelot, the nexus who's helping the Millennium ghosts. Don't you remember, Police Girl?" Granted it would've been a long time ago for her, but still she should remember something like a 'ghost war' and the universe tearing itself apart.

Seras just continued to stare. "What's a nexus?"

Alucard almost choked on the last mouthful he'd taken from the blood packet. "What do you mean, 'What's a nexus?'"

"Well, I've never heard of one."

"What the… Police Girl, has the radiation messed with your head? You are a nexus!"

Seras took on a tone akin to a daughter who was attempting to explain something to an old parent whose mind was starting to slip. "Master, I'm a vampire. We're both vampires. Don't you remember? Two hundred and seventy-eight years ago in Cheddar you gave me a choice. I could either…"

"Don't patronize me, Police Girl! I'm not the one who's forgotten what he is!" Alucard quickly stood up and glared at Seras.

But rather than cowering like he'd expected her to, Seras responded by glaring right back at him. "Neither am I!"

Alucard kept up his glaring for a moment and scrutinized his fledgling's face. She didn't back down… or even blink, and Alucard broke out into a chuckle. "Gotten brave over the years, haven't you, Police Girl?"

"Well, I've been on my own since the bombs dropped in 2077."

Alucard grinned. "Indeed… All by yourself? No ghosts buzzing around you? No Pip, Jack, Jan, Casper or psychotic prankster clown?"

"Master… what the bloody hell are you talking about?" Seras asked, a hint of concern entering her voice again.

"Hmmmm…" Alucard brought his hand up to his chin; and his voice lowered until it was obvious that, rather than talking to Seras, the No-Life King was simply thinking out loud. "'alternate' future? Maybe none of that stuff happened here." After all, even if Seras tried to forget about the ghosts, Alucard thought it unlikely they would let her.

"Master?"

Alucard seemed to snap out of his detached state. "Don't worry, Police Girl. I'm not insane… well not any more than usual." Alucard's lip curled into a devious smile. "When Father Time left me here, he said something about this being an 'alternate' future…"

"Different timelines? So, you're my master… but a different version? Fork in the road stuff?"

"Well, based on those Back to the Future movies Steve convinced me to watch back in 1993, I'd say yes."

"Steve, who's Steve?" Seras asked

"Oh, a student at private school master and I attended back in the 90's. The kind you'd call a 'geek' if time hasn't erased that slang from use..." The No Life King trailed off, briefly remembering the rather 'wacky' hijinks that had plagued the school when he was keeping an eye on his master, but quickly shook his head. "...But that's a story for another day. My point is that the Police Girl I knew eventually became able to talk to ghosts...which you can't do."

"Well… I guess if vampires, ghouls and werewolves can exist, alternate timelines aren't that far fetched." Seras replied with a little giggle. Then she continued, "Well then, Master, why don't you let me take a look at the list; and I'll see if I can help you find the rest of the stuff on it."

Alucard removed the list from his pocket and handed it to Seras. She looked it over and commented, "Five Nuka-Cola Quantums and four Ultrajets. Hmmmm. Well there's a Nuka-Cola bottling plant to the west. There may be a few Quantums still kicking around there. As for the Ultrajet- There's a rumor that some ghoul makes the stuff so... we may be able to find out more about how to get a hold of some if we pay a little visit to Underworld."

"A ghoul makes it?" Alucard asked while trying to picture a mindless zombie mixing chemicals. While the image was slightly amusing, it did nothing to bolster Alucard's confidence in his fledgling's information.

"Um… Ghouls are a bit different these days. Sure, there are still 'ferals', which are pretty much the mindless zombies you'd be familiar with, but the fallout radiation from the nuclear bombs has created a new kind of 'ghoul'. This new breed possesses a body very much like the more traditional ghouls, but their minds and intelligence remains intact."

"Really?" Alucard asked, sounding mildly intrigued by the idea of intelligent ghouls.

"Yes, Master. In fact Underworld is an entire settlement of intelligent ghouls who've made a home for themselves beneath the Museum of History." Seras answered then paused before adding. "A lot has changed over the past two and a half centuries."

"It would seem so." Alucard replied and perked up slightly. Maybe this post-apocalyptic world would prove interesting after all. At the least, it would certainly be a change of pace.

* * *

With his green army uniform and matching beret, Colonel Roy Campbell looked exceptionally out of place among the sailors making up the bridge crew of the Ohio Class Nuclear Submarine _U.S.S. Discovery_. Despite his commanding presence, the man was mostly running on caffeine, having been rudely awakened nearly five hours earlier to a national security threat that should have been no business to a retiree like him.

Unfortunately, at the insistence of Secretary of Defense, Jim Houseman, Campbell had been brought out of retirement for one more mission, and when he was told what was going down, the Colonel could not sit back and have them find someone else for the job. It was not just out of a sense of duty for a country he devoted thirty years of service to protecting, but because his niece had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Furthermore, the terrorist takeover could not have come at a worse time. The current President—a man whose reputation was already stained with the Iraqi quagmire and the abuses of power by the U.S. military in the country—would be meeting tomorrow with his Russian counterpart to sign the START 3 Treaty, the next step in international nuclear disarmament. If the world were to find out that the U.S. was developing the ultimate nuclear weapon at the same time...well, that really went without saying...

Looking around the bridge, he found two of this mission's cadre of 'advisors.' The first was a young woman named Mei Ling. She was a first-generation Chinese-American, a genius MIT graduate, and what most people would describe as 'cute.' Her responsibility was data analysis and recording mission progress for the next 24 hours.

At the moment, she was leafing through a book of Chinese proverbs, and developed a habit of quoting them, Shakespeare, and any other meaningful quotes from famous people (and every time she did so, they were strangely relevant to the situation at hand).

Most importantly, she was the developer of several new technologies being used on this mission. Among them was Codec, a new digital communication's system. Not only was the new system completely secure from eavesdropping, but several soldiers reported that time around them seemed to conveniently freeze while using it. It would be invaluable in keeping their 'operative' in touch with mission control.

The other wonder invention she had prepared for this mission was the new, experimental 'Soliton' Radar System, a special nanomachine operated radar that would allow the user to monitor enemy movements, basic layout of his environment, and even display an enemy's field of vision down to whether or not their eyes were closed. It jammed easily, but it was better than nothing.

The only other woman present on the bridge was the more mature looking Dr. Naomi Hunter, sitting at a computer making some last minute programming for some nanomachine injections. While the woman was nominally a medical doctor, her main purpose here was to act as an advisor for dealing with FOXHOUND and its new GENOME Army.

After all, not only had she been the chief of FOXHOUND's medical staff for the last two years, she was also in charge of the project that created the latter unit. She knew them better than even the Colonel, FOXHOUND's former C.O. did.

There were two other people Roy had enlisted for the mission's support. First among them was NEST (Nuclear Emergency Search Team) advisor Nastasha Romanenko, who, in addition to her obvious expertise with nuclear weapons, had an encyclopedic knowledge of weapons and other military equipment that would be used throughout the mission. She was not on the sub, however, instead being allowed to operate from her home in Los Angeles.

The Colonel was happier that way. The woman may have been orphaned by the Chernobyl disaster, but he found her stance on nuclear weapons...preachy, to say the least.

Then there was former FOXHOUND Drill Instructor McDonnell "Master" Miller. In an environment as harsh as winter-ridden Alaska, his knowledge of survival skills and video-gaming ergonomics would be an invaluable tool to the man going in.

Speaking of whom...

The Colonel turned to a bank of security monitors, specifically the cameras focused on the sub's infirmary. The sole occupant was an indignated looking man with a mop of brown hair, stripped to his boxers and wearing a look of bored confusion. To his relief, the familiar face had kept himself in excellent shape, no doubt due to the rigorous demands of being an Iditarod Dog Musher for the last few years. The prospect of missing the next race (occurring one week from tonight, no less) had likely compounded his frustration.

Campbell couldn't help but feel nostalgic as he stared longer at the monitor. He was one of the few people in the world the man on the screen called a friend, and the Colonel knew him better than anyone else from FOXHOUND. He was the perfect choice for this operation, having stopped World War III **twice** in the last ten years. Furthermore, his mastery of stealth made him, in the Colonel's own (some would say 'blasphemous') opinion, a darker knight than the Dark Knight himself.

Hopefully the comparison was accurate. Between the 'Top Secret/Eyes_' Only_ nature of the project that had been taking place on the island prior to the takeover, and a certain Man of Steel's disdain for nuclear proliferation, Secretary Houseman made it clear that going to the Justice League was **out of the question**.

Reminiscing would have to wait anyway. Time was short, and due to the time limit the terrorists had given them, this operation had been slapped together in only a few hours. Even then, due the manner in which the Shadow Moses facility was constructed, there was no way to remotely gather Intel about the specifics on what was going on inside. They'd have to wing it the rest of the way.

Roy strolled past Naomi.

"Naomi? Do you have that injection ready yet?"

"Yeah, just finishing with the nanomachines now. One Sec..." She trailed off as she watched for the computer's signal that the programming was complete. Three seconds later, the batch was prepared. Wasting no time, she picked up a medical tray occupied by a single hypodermic needle carrying the nanomachine cocktail...and something else.

The Colonel looked down at the needle grimly, remembering just what was mixed in with the nanomachines, anti-freezing peptides and other substances that would keep their man in top shape for the next 24 hours. He grimaced, thinking of all the lies he'd have to tell his old friend, key among them the deadly agent mixed within the needle's more benign contents...

...But both his and Meryl's lives were in danger. It didn't make him feel any better, but Houseman had put him between a rock and a hard place. He forced himself to swallow his shame and focus on the business at hand. Naomi joined him at his side and the two strolled down a narrow corridor out of the bridge.

"I hope you can forget your...grudge, for the time being." The Colonel said, only giving a sideways glance to the doctor.

"Of course," she answered quietly.

"I mean it, now isn't the time for..." he trailed off, sighing. "America's safety and reputation are on the line. We can't afford to let anything happen to him. Do you understand, Naomi?" His tone was dead serious, and his aged face accented his grim expression.

Naomi gave former FOXHOUND C.O. a neutral look, her eyes narrowing as she responded. "Perfectly..."

At last, the two reached the infirmary door. Campbell reached for the handle, stopping just centimeters before turning to face Naomi one more time.

"And for both our sakes..." his expression became even more serious. "...Gray Fox is dead and gone; so far as either of **us** know. Okay?"

The stoic doctor only nodded, and that was all the Colonel needed or had time for.

As the officer opened the door to the infirmary, the codename washed over the woman as she remembered what she was holding...and who was waiting behind that door for them.

_Frankie...you'll be able to rest soon._

As Naomi shut the door behind her, both hers and the Colonel's eyes landed on the room's only other occupant.

As Roy approached the man, he put on the warmest grin he could under the circumstances.

"It's been a long time, Snake..."

* * *

Things had gone surprisingly well at the Round Table meeting. 'Alucard' had been appropriately subservient… at least on the surface. Inwardly, the Count would've liked nothing better than to have shredded each of the knight's present… with the obvious exception of Integra, who was at the time not an official Knight of the Round Table, and her ancestor, without whom she'd never have been born. But the vampire held himself in check.

Yes, it was the Count who held himself in check. The seals that had been placed upon him were not nearly as effective as Van Helsing believed them to be. The Count had discreetly tested there limit's the same day he was bound with them. They did indeed serve to protect Abraham from any attempts at a direct attack by the Count, and they also forced the vampire to obey any **direct **order given by his new master. But that still left him a great deal of leeway… and he was capable of being **very **creative when the situation called for it.

However, any trick he pulled was bound to create more trouble than it was worth. The momentary pleasure of impaling the Round Table membership with their own spines was far outweighed by the possibility of never meeting the beautiful woman, who had proven to be the one person in the vampire's (un)life capable enough to defeat him. And he would not risk that.

So, though it bruised his pride immensely, the Count suffered the indignity of being a good 'pet' to his new master; and after much debate, the Round Table gave their seal of approval to Integra's plan. However, there was still one obstacle to overcome, an obstacle that sent the Count, his new master and the vampire's… 'Countess' on a long train ride to Scotland.

"I do not understand. Why should we have to go all the way to Scotland to see the Queen? A monarch should rule from the nation's capital… not over four hundred miles away."

"Do not presume to question Her Majesty, you filthy vampire!" Abraham shouted, within the confines of the… most unusual trio's private cabin.

The vampire glared at his new master and looked as if he was fighting a losing battle not to lash back at the man.

"Queen Victoria has spent most of her time in seclusion since the death of her mother and husband." Integra answered the vampire's question in an attempt to defuse the situation. "She was greatly affected by their deaths and has entered an extended period of mourning. From what I've heard, she's worn nothing but black for the last thirty years."

The monster seemed to calm. He relaxed against the back of his seat and was quiet for a moment before responding, "Yes, the death of one's love can deeply affect a ruler, sometimes even causing them to turn their backs on what once mattered most to them." The Count replied sounding almost solemn.

"The Queen has not turned her back on us. She still fulfills all her royal duties… and what could a monster like you possibly know of love?" Abraham scoffed.

"More than you realize." The Count replied with a hushed breath that the twenty-seven year old sitting next to him was just barely able to overhear.

"What was that?" The older, more hard-of-hearing man questioned, not having been able to make out anything more than a low grumble.

"I said you're right. A monster has no need of love." _But even the greatest monster still possesses some spark of his former humanity._ The Count thought as his eyes cast a stray look at the woman beside him.

"You want something, Alucard?" Integra asked, having noticed the vampire's quick glance.

"I'm growing hungry." Was the Count's only reply.

"You've already had your… 'meal' for the day." Abraham replied harshly.

Integra rose to her feet. "He behaved himself at the Round Table meeting. I think we can reward him with a little extra today."

"We could… but we won't. One must be hard when dealing with a monster." Abraham stated, but Integra seemed to have either not heard him… or simply chosen to ignore him, for she went over to the icebox and pulled out another packet of blood.

"What are you doing? I said no!" Abraham protested.

Integra turned to her ancestor. "You've never had a pet, have you?" A look of confusion passed over Abraham's face, and Integra's lip curled into a subtle, sly smile. "Carrot and stick. You punish them when they're disobedient, but when they behave themselves... you reward them with a little treat." Integra replied as she turned back to the blood packet and emptied half its contents into a wine glass. She then, keeping her back to the two 'men', picked up a nearby knife, made a shallow cut into her finger and squeezed a few drops of her blood into the glass. As she used the knife to mix the few drops of her virgin blood in with the rest of the glass's contents, Integra thought to herself. _Just a little treat._

_

* * *

_(Well, we both hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please Review and let us know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	14. Kept You Waiting, Huh?

"**Kept You Waiting, Huh?"**

With a painful rush, the SDV (Swimmer Delivery Vehicle) shot free of the Discovery's torpedo tube and burned through the freezing Alaskan waters. Only the momentum of the launch carried it forward. Using any propulsion would have made it visible to enemy sonar. Radio silence was also observed, even though the SDV's sole occupant had a supposedly secure "Codec" line with Mission Control.

Transferred momentum aside, however, the man in the claustrophobic transport simply observed the rocky wall of Shadow Moses Island ghosting out of the murky ocean water. Even as seconds turned to minutes, the passenger didn't lose focus. As much as he didn't want it, he had a mission to fulfill.

The SDV slowed to a crawl as it entered an underwater cave, coming to an abrupt halt as it slammed headfirst against a rock at the end of the cave's horizontal section. The capsule's sturdy construction prevented it from crumpling against the force, and the shock absorption allowed the man inside a speedy recovery.

Wasting no time, the soldier, decked in tight scuba gear over an already tight sneaking suit, pressed the button to flood the capsule. Between the suit's polythermal technological advances and the anti-freezing peptides Dr. Hunter had injected him with, he didn't even feel the water, let alone its arctic chill as the pod flooded.

With a muffled pop, the lid of the SDV snapped free, and a lone figure exited. It noticed a wide opening in the cave ceiling overhead and took initiative. Like a fish, the scuba-suited figure rose to the surface, remembering somewhere in this vicinity, a half-submerged tunnel led to a warehouse dock in the caves beneath the island.

Insertion was imminent.

* * *

Alucard and Seras waited until the sun set before traversing the Capital Wasteland in their quest to obtain the five Nuka-Cola Quantums. It wasn't that either of them were hurt by the sunlight. Alucard just hated the stuff, and Seras was more than willing to waste a few hours waiting around with her old master. From her point of view she hadn't seen him in two hundred years, so it was nice to catch up a little... even if he wasn't technically the same 'Alucard' who'd sired her.

But as soon as the sun started to set, the pair departed the rusted old aircraft carrier and began their trek across the wastelands. The journey was neither difficult nor extraordinarily time consuming. Seras had the approximate location of the Nuka-Cola building marked on her map. And the worst obstacle the two encountered was a lone Deathclaw that leapt out from behind a large bolder and quickly shredded Alucard with its oversized claws.

However, just as the creature was starting towards Seras, a dark chuckling emerged from Alucard's torn body. Startled, the Deathclaw turned back just in time to see the body of the 'person' it had just 'killed' dissolve into a mass of shadows that shot towards it.

Deathclaws may have been the fastest creatures in the Capital Wasteland, but their speed was still no match for a shape-shifting vampire. Alucard's shadow tendrils easily wrapped around the creature, which let out a hissing sound as it vanished beneath a swirling sea of black and red.

Alucard continued chuckling as he reformed, and Seras shook her head. "I will never understand why you let your enemies tear you apart before you fight back."

"I like to play with my food." The elder vampire replied as a psychotic grin spread across his face.

Seras shook her head again before responding, "Come on, Master. The plant should be somewhere on the other side of this hill." The younger vampire slung her Fatman back over her shoulder as she began to ascend the rather steep hill, and Alucard followed her.

When the pair reached the crest, the Nuka-Cola plant came into view. It didn't look like much, just another rundown ruin from the days before the bombs fell. However, a quick examination by Alucard's third eye revealed that, unlike most of the other ruins, the building's outer shell was still intact.

So the two vampires entered through the front doors... where they were immediately assaulted by laser fire from a robot that looked very much like the old sci-fi 'Robby the Robot' (not that either of the two vampires made the connection).

"You are trespassing on Nuka-Cola property." The robot informed as it continued to fire at the two intruders. "Please clear the area immediately." It politely requested before getting its 'head' blown apart by a Jackal round.

"What the Hell was that?" Alucard asked as he examined the burn in his arm that was just then starting to heal.

"It looked like a Protectron... except for the weird coloring."

"A what?" Alucard asked as he holstered his gun.

Seras sighed before answering. "A Protectron is a low grade security robot."

"With some kind of energy weapon?"

"Yup."

"Huh. Well, I hope there's more of them. Those energy shots actually stung a little."

Seras looked quizzically at Alucard. "Are you being sarcastic, Master?"

"Not at all, Police Girl." Alucard drew his gun again. "Come, let's have some fun." Then the No-Life King let out a dark chuckle as he began to sweep the building, Seras following behind him.

They continued on until they came to a locked side room. Seras was just starting to reach into her hair to retrieve a bobby pin when Alucard roughly shoulder-slammed the door, sending it flying off its hinges. "Master, must you always be so... barbaric? There are more delicate ways to deal with locked doors, you know!"

Alucard grinned at her. "True, but they take longer... and aren't nearly as much fun." Then the No-Life King turned back to the room to see if there was anything worth while in it.

The room was nearly empty save for a couple of skeletons and a letter lying by their bodies. The words 'Help Me' were written largely across the top of the letter; and motivated by nothing more than morbid curiosity, Alucard picked up the letter and started to read it.

"_He threw me in here! I can't believe he did it, but that boltbrain foreman psychopath locked me in a closet!_

"_A fucking 17 minute break!? That's why it threw me in here!?_

"_It's been a day, and that stupid robot hasn't even checked on me! I can't wait until the next time he opens that door. I'm going to brain him with this auto-stapler and then escape. This story will be front page news so fast that he'll have been reassigned with toaster duty by the time he sees it!_

"_Day 3 and I'm running out of what little edible supplies there are. They dragged another guy in here as well, says his name is Seth from R&D. Apparently it's now against company policy to leave the toilet seat up in the unisex bathrooms._

"_We've come up with a plan that won't fail! We'll be out of here in no time... But for now, we play the waiting game."_

Alucard cast another look at the two skeletons. "Well, I guess your plan failed after all." And with that, the vampire turned his back on the two dead bodies, let the letter slowly float from his hand to the floor and continued his quest for the Quantums. Maybe if he was lucky he'd even get to meat the ' boltbrain foreman psychopath'. The robot sounded like an interestingly insane individual, and Alucard was always up for meeting another one of those.

* * *

"You're certain?" Liquid spoke into the radio.

"_Two F-16s. Radar has them clear as day. If you were expecting a distraction to cover his entrance, I'd say this is it, no question."_ Replied the walkie-talkie.

"Alright, I'll take care of them. Get to your position." He ordered.

"_Roger that."_

As Liquid pocketed the radio, he took one last look at his surroundings. Far beneath the island's surface was an old dock that had been converted into a warehouse for maintenance equipment and other things that they could afford to store in the frigid caverns. The water nearby was relatively shallow and thus, the place doubled as a pump station for the island's water supply.

The crates also provided excellent cover, and at the moment, only two men were available to cover it, with a third on the way.

There couldn't have been a better spot to infiltrate.

Liquid then got onto the cargo elevator, the only way in or out of this cavern. Just as he boarded, he turned around to face his escort. A single arctic warfare trooper who helped him inspect the locale.

"Stay alert, he'll be through here," Liquid said assuredly. "...**I know it**."

The soldier tensed at the ominous shift in Liquid's tone.

"I'm going to swat down a couple of bothersome flies."

With one flip of a switch, the FOXHOUND commander rose from the dock, arms crossed as he felt his destiny approach.

...No one noticed a dark figure silently creep from the still water at the other end of the room...

* * *

The Count stood while his present 'master' and the woman destined to be his future one sat in leather, wingtip chairs. It was... degrading, to be forced to stand at attention while others sat comfortably and waited. However, the vampire bore the indignity with a respectful restraint that two weeks prior he would not have believed himself to possess.

And as he waited for the Queen to enter the room, the Count found his thoughts drifting back to the strange creature who held him captive. He knew what she'd done. True she'd kept her back to him, and perhaps she was able to hide the action from the man she claimed to be her great-grandfather. However, vampires were not limited by the scope of mere human vision.

No. The Count had seen the blonde deliberately cut herself, and his mouth watered as he watched her squeeze a few drops of her blood in with the rest. She had indeed given him a 'treat'. Her blood was strong, sweet and it added a unique tang to the rest.

The Count could only imagine how good it would taste were it not diluted by such inferior 'vintages'. However, although fantasizing about what it would be like to taste pure, undiluted blood from Integra's veins was... entertaining; it was not the thought which most occupied the vampire's mind.

No the bigger question was 'why?' Why had she done it? Why did she give him her blood? Was it really just for a little treat? Or was there more to it than that? Did she know he could see what she was doing? How could she not? She knew so much about vampires. How could she not know about their 'third eye'. She must've. So, why?

Was it done to gain more of an upper hand, to give him but a slight taste of her blood, knowing he'd crave more? Did she believe that that craving would give her more power over him, that the promise of more 'treats' would inspire a fiercer loyalty?

Somewhere in the back of the vampire's mind, he was aware of the Queen entering the room, aware of her taking a seat across from his masters, aware of the discussion they were having, a discussion that would determine his ultimate fate. But he didn't care. Discovering what future lay before him paled in comparison to figuring out why Integra had given him a taste of her blood.

Didn't she already have him at enough of a disadvantage? Did she harbor doubts about his loyalty... even after he'd allowed himself to be bound to that... that buffoon? She'd never displayed any doubts before. Why would she have them now?

Perhaps it had nothing to do with his loyalty. Perhaps she just wanted him to suffer, to know what he was being denied? Perhaps she was as twisted and sadistic as he was? No. That wasn't it. That couldn't have been it. If she were that... 'perverted,' her blood would not have been as sweet. As strong, yes, perhaps even as tasty, but it would've had a distinctly different flavor.

So, if it was not for power... or to see him suffer, what was it for? Why did she do it? Was it really for a 'treat'? Was it that simple? Could it be that simple? Had she just wanted to reward him for being a 'good pet'? Was he just reading too much into the 'generous' act?

Were the thoughts that had haunted him for the past five hours all for naught? Was there no deep, secret meaning to be discovered? Why had she done it?

"Alucard?" The vampire was roused from his musings as he heard his new master use the name the blonde woman had given him.

The count dropped to one knee; and, though it pained him, respectfully replied, "Yes, Master?"

"Are you paying attention?"

"Forgive me, Master. My mind was..." The vampire's eyes briefly drifted over to the blonde woman's elegant face. "elsewhere."

"Stupid, absent minded vampire. You're mind should remain focused on where you are and what's going on around you."

The Count felt an almost overpowering urge to leap at the man and yank his tongue. How could that man dare insult him like that?! Most names didn't bother the No-Life King. In fact he even took a perverted pleasure in being called a monster... or a bastard. But being called stupid was another matter.

For over four centuries the vampire that was once the Voivode Vlad Drăculea had walked the earth; and in that time, he took a great pride in always furthering his own knowledge. The Count could read and write in seven different languages, including Latin. He'd studied the military strategies of every great empire, all the way back to Rome. He'd done his best to keep up to date with all 'modern sciences'; and his knowledge of the arcane 'dark arts' was possibly unrivaled in all the world. Who was this fool to call him stupid?!

But still, the Count reined in his natural impulses. "Again I apologize, my master."

Abraham huffed.

Alucard continued, "What do you wish of me?"

And Integra answered, "The Queen is having trouble believing that we can... keep you in line. She wants a demonstration of your loyalty."

Alucard remained on one knee, but turned his head towards the queen. "Ask what you will. I live only to do my Master's bidding."

"Do you now?" The Queen asked, obviously unconvinced by words alone. "Well, we shall see. We shall see." Then the Queen turned to Abraham. In your report you stated that the vampire master this..." The Queen cast a brief look back at the kneeling vampire. "Alucard served, before pledging his allegiance to you, was aided by a loyal following of gypsies."

"Yes." Abraham replied, not understanding what that had to do with the conversation at hand.

"You also stated that when the remaining gypsies fled, you did not pursue them... despite the fact they had killed one of your men."

"They were not undead and posed little threat once the monster and his other servants had been put down."

"Perhaps they are not undead, but they are still loose ends. They should be dealt with." The Queen replied before taking a sip from her tea. "If your new... 'servant' kills the last of his former allies, I believe that would prove his loyalty to the Crown."

* * *

As unproductive as it initially appeared, the last 45 minutes Seras sat parked in front of a computer screen in a side room on the second floor of the Tank Hangar was an informative one. While Millennium was arguably the greatest threat, they weren't the only one. "Know thy enemy" was the key here...and "Know thy geography" and "Know when the hell this is" also merited consideration.

February 27, 2005. The last time it was that date was well over two weeks earlier. Why her master killing Ocelot would have turned the clock back was beyond her comprehension, but at least it explained why Mantis and Ocelot were still alive...and why Ocelot still had both of his arms.

To her dismay, Seras had also confirmed that she was, indeed, on a rock in the Bering Sea, Shadow Moses Island, a rock at the northwestern edge of the Aleutians' Fox Archipelago, and just east of Samalga Pass and the Islands of Four Mountains.

At the turn of the 20th Century, the facility she now found herself in was built for the dismantling and storage of nuclear warheads, as similar facilities, such as Pantex, were being pushed beyond capacity. However, remembering the massive war machine in the underground maintenance base towards the other end of the island, she knew that was, at best, a secondary purpose for the base's true purpose.

Then there was FOXHOUND...

She had gone over all the information her security clearance would provide for the six commandoes running this show. She reviewed the familiar profile of Revolver Ocelot, but found no more information than what Integra's own files on the man revealed.

Psycho Mantis' profile, on the other hand, was a bit more informative. Like The Sorrow, he had been the product of Soviet Cold War psychic experimentation, and one of the best psychics in the world...and the most mentally unstable. Apparently, after leaving the KGB at the end of the Cold War, the telepath moved to America and spent seven years working as a psychic profiler for the FBI. Once he had dove into the mind of a serial killer, and when he "came out" he hadn't been the same since.

Seras wasn't sure whether to feel guilty, wary, or both of what had become of him when he had ran afoul of The Joker's ghost, but for the moment, she didn't worry. After all, Mantis was too busy being alive to meet the late Crown Prince of Crime today.

Next on the list was the strange muscleman who had cornered Seras in the frozen warehouse not far from REX's maintenance hangar, Vulcan Raven. The man was an Inuit shaman who had been born and raised in Alaska. Multiple times in his adulthood, he had participated in the World Eskimo-Indian Olympics, excelling in several events, particularly the benign sounding but brutal "Ear Pull." A quick Wikipedia check revealed just what the event was, and Seras winced reading its description before moving on.

During the 80's, Raven, who excelled at endurance, one day decided to walk across the frozen waters of the Bering Strait from Alaska to Russia. For whatever reason, when he arrived on the other side, he joined Spetznaz and met up with the man now known as Revolver Ocelot, following him to FOXHOUND near the end of the century.

Seras gulped when he read the part explaining why they called him "Vulcan."

Raven may have looked more than capable of bench-pressing the Captain, but no amount of muscle mass would make Seras believe that a mere mortal could carry a Vulcan Cannon with the same effort required to hold a Nerf gun. Such Gatling guns were usually mounted on fighter jets for a reason.

Next up on the list was the sleepy-eyed woman who had 'saved' her from the wolf that cornered her in the hangar, "Sniper Wolf." As her name implied, she was positively deadly with a Heckler & Koch PSG1, and deadlier still due to her patience...

...Her profile recorded her waiting a whole week for a target to stroll into her crosshairs. Her only movement was a single blink after all that time.

It might or might not have had something to do with a severe tranquilizer addiction listed in her medical history, one shown to be still ongoing. That might or might not have been linked to her not-so-twitchy demeanor.

However, that did not compare to her surprise when Seras looked up the tranquil sniper's nationality.

_Wait, wait, wait!_ Seras thought. _She's an __**Iraqi**__**Kurd**__? I thought for sure she was French_! She gave it a little more thought._ ...Or German, or Swedish, or Russian...or Hungarian...Where did that accent come from? Madeupistan?_

She shook her head and moved on to the other two soldiers.

"Decoy Octopus" was the name of the barely human face in the file photograph. The man looked like the logical conclusion of the sum total of a certain 80's pop star's plastic surgeries and skin diseases. His nose was whittled down to the cartilage, ears filed down to size, and his skin was paler than the most sickly, underfed vampire she had met. Apparently, this was all done for the sake of easier application of latex masks, something essential to a man designated the "Master of Disguise."

On top of that, Seras had to reread one paragraph to make sure she wasn't imagining things. While masterful craftsmanship of masks for going undercover was on his repertoire, the man was apparently also an out-and-out shapeshifter. Using the blood of a target and an unidentified drug, Octopus could imitate his targets with perfection. Though it mentioned DNA testing would reveal his true identity. It didn't help that the man spoke a dozen languages with the fluency expected of someone born learning it.

On top of **that**, a small attachment relating to the all-purpose doppelganger revealed that he had standing orders to wear a fedora so he wouldn't be confused with any FOXHOUND operatives he was disguised as.

_It certainly explains the 'twins.'_ Seras thought. _And the inconsistent accent makes sense too, it says right here he's Mexican._

Finally, that brought Seras to the man Octopus had been imitating when they first met.

The file itself was much shorter than the preceding five, but it at least came with a photograph to make sure Seras wasn't confusing him with someone else. "Liquid," or rather "Liquid Snake" as his full codename was, was a veteran soldier. In 1990, he had become the youngest person to join the SAS and, on top of that, moonlighted as an agent for the SIS. An impressive feat since he spent four years being held prisoner in Iraq after Operation: Desert Storm. He eventually got sick of the army, becoming a mercenary working throughout North Africa until 1999 when...

...Seras tried to ignore the part where it said he spent the several months in a coma after having his skull caved in from being sucked through a jet engine.

After spending several months in a coma that definitely didn't come from being caught in something that should have pulped you in a heartbeat, Liquid joined FOXHOUND as the unit's point man. He eventually rose through the ranks and replaced its previous C.O. only a year earlier. The only red flags in his psych profile was a tendency to flounce when speaking while agitated, but otherwise, nothing indicating the man would resort to nuclear terrorism.

"Sergeant?" a voice asked tentatively from the room's entrance. Quickly closing out of the profiles, Seras turned in her seat to see another faceless soldier standing in the door.

"Yes..." she squinted at the soldier's shoulder "...Corporal?"

"We need you down on the first floor basement. Liquid's orders."

"First floor basement?" Seras got up from her seat, following the soldier out the door and down the catwalk. "What's down the-..." Seras trailed off, quickly realizing that, as part of her act, she had to pretend to know what was going on. "I mean, what do they need me down there for?"

"He wants you to help Private Sasaki keep an eye on the DARPA Chief and the traitor."

"Uh..." Seras remembered the conversation between Liquid and Mantis, and the nefarious plans the former had for her. "Can I talk to him about this?"

"'Fraid not sir," the soldier said regrettably. "He's taking the Hind out to shoot down some F-16s that just took off from Galena.

"Damnit," she murmured before noticing what the soldier said. "Wait, Hind, as in a Russian helicopter?"

"Yeah."

"In this weather?"

"Uh-huh."

"A Russian ground attack chopp-."

"That's right."

"Against two F-16s..."

A nod.

"...In an Alaskan blizzard?"

The soldier said nothing, exhausting all other ways to say "yes."

_Maybe it'll be easier to save the world than I thought._

"With all due respect sir," the Corporal replied as they reached the first floor. "Knowing the boss, he'd probably try to punch them out of the air. That's how he ended up in a coma a few years back, it involved getting a little too close to an airborne Fighting Falcon and..." The GENOME soldier trailed off when he noticed his superior pick up 'his' pace and launch 'himself' at the elevator. "...Uh, carry on, sir!"

Seras did not reply, just hitting the call button and entering the elevator car.

_This night just gets crazier by the minute. _She bemoaned. _How can this possibly get worse?_

Timing, being the spiteful little prick it was, answered her when a foot jammed itself in the closing elevator doors. They automatically reopened in response, allowing the foot's owner to step in.

"Going my way, soldier?"

Seras took a few more steps back than needed when she noticed her fellow passenger was an all too familiar Russian cowboy.

"Uh, Ocelot, sir!" Seras snapped into a hasty salute.

"At ease," Ocelot said absent-mindedly as he turned to the elevator control panel. "I just need to get to my new post. Liquid expects our intruder any minute, and I need to make some last minute preparations."

He thumbed the button for floor B2, just beneath where Seras was supposed to go.

"Uh..." Seras asked her next question, not just to avoid any suspicious silence, but out of genuine confusion. "Intruder, sir?"

"You don't expect the Americans to just roll over and hand over the old man's corpse, do you?" Ocelot asked rhetorically.

"Well, no..." _I suppose it wouldn't hurt to sound like I know what I'm talking about..._ She spoke a bit louder, "But we're in the middle of a blizzard, the ocean is even colder than the air, and I imagine we have radar and sonar to let us know when aircraft or submarines are approaching, and if Liquid is really serious about launching, he'll send a nuke to the White House if the Americans even twitch in the wrong direction."

Ocelot studied the disguised vampire as she spoke, her sharp vision barely spotted a nod that essentially spoke "good, good, and...?"

"...Simply put, sir..." Seras concluded, increasingly unaware how much of a clueless evil minion she sounded like, "...what could the Americans possibly do to stop us?"

A beat...

...

...

...

...

"...Sir?"

"What?" Ocelot said, pulling his eyesight away from the ceiling. "I stopped listening when you forgot about that intruder that wasted three of your men."

"But you sound like you're expecting someone else," Seras observed, ignoring Ocelot's sarcasm. "Can you name anyone **else** suicidal enough to break into this place?"

Seras expected another silence, and there were about five seconds between her question and her answer that made her think she was right, until...

"Heheheheheha..." Ocelot chuckled, "Hehehea**hahahaHAHAHAHAHA!!!**" Seras wanted to distance herself from the mad cowboy, but realized that he blocked the elevator exit.

Fortunately, his laughter ended as quickly as it began, his eyes finally falling on the bewildered vampire, turning from amusement to serious confusion. He raised an eyebrow, wondering if this wasn't some idiotic joke.

"...Oh my... You..." Ocelot murmured, shock palpable in his voice, "You're **serious,** aren't you?"

The elevator door snapped shut, and Seras was now truly alone with the mad gunman.

* * *

One by one, pieces of scuba gear were tossed aside and clanged to the metal floor of the ascending elevator. The stone walls around the shaft gave away to open air and a view of the sea he had swam out of. He took some time to reorient himself with the world when the orange tint of his mask's goggles left as he pulled it free of his head.

The anti-freezing peptide was apparently working, as the subzero winds battering his face weren't that unpleasant. It was a good thing considering the only article of clothing on his head was a blue bandana, and that didn't even cover his ears, the part of the body that most body heat escaped from in colder temperatures.

The quiet hydraulic hiss of the elevator ended with a loud clank. Fortunately, the blasting wind had apparently muffled the noise. Better still, the new Soliton Radar occupying the upper-right hand corner of his vision showed no hostiles in the immediate area. He still took a moment to look around though, finding in the darkness the spinning form of helicopter rotors.

Knowing the presence of an active vehicle meant other people were likely to be nearby, he dashed to a conveniently placed steel crate placed diagonally between the elevator and what he could only assume was a helipad. It was a short sprint, and he didn't even need to catch his breath as he came to a stop at the edge of the container. Another view of his area revealed no guards anywhere near the cliff area. He'd be safe for now.

Leaning around the box as far as he dared, he saw a large, raised platform occupied by two Arctic Warfare troops...and a Hind D gunship making its final takeoff preparations. The intruder had no weapons to speak of at the moment. They would have been rendered useless by the seawater. All he had on him was a pair of electronic binoculars and a pack of cancer sticks he had smuggled in. Getting noticed with that chopper present was too risky.

Feeling he saw all he needed for the moment, the shadowy newcomer ducked back behind the crates and knelt. He raised his fingers to his ear and activated his Codec. The Colonel would have wanted to know his progress thus far.

One beep, another, and then finally, the old man's expectant face appeared on a small viewscreen.

"It's Snake..." the intruder hissed in a quiet, gravelly voice. "...I'm in front of the disposal facility."

(Well, we hope you enjoyed the fourteenth chapter. Please review and let us know what you though. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	15. Bloody Hell

**Bloody Hell.**

**AN:** First off, this is Crow T R0bot just apologizing for keeping you guys waiting for a month. I accept full responsibility for this fic taking forever to update. Hopefully this and subsequent chapters will be worth the wait. With that said, let's get this fic moving again. This chapter is a little longer than usual, so hopefully that'll make up for it.

* * *

Seras wasn't sure what to make of Ocelot's sudden silence once the elevator doors closed. Was he actually offended by her ignorance? It didn't really help that it sounded like he knew the answers to her questions but seemed to be withholding them out of spite.

At the same time, however, she felt like she would draw suspicion if she went any further with her questions.

With a gentle jerk, the elevator descended, but that was immediately followed by a loud clank as something hit the floor. The vampire whirled around and saw her radio had come loose and landed on the metal floor. Reflexively, she bent over to pick it up, rising back to her feet to examine its state of repair.

However, before she could give it a serious examination, the ruffling of a coat and the sound of a knife leaving its sheath hit her sensitive ears. She immediately turned around to find Ocelot, wearing the contorted face of a man possessed and pulling his right arm back, his hand wrapped around a combat knife.

Before Seras could think of how to handle the situation, she, like most other people caught in a similar predicament, almost reflexively shouted in shock.

To her surprise, her burst of noise seemed to stop the Russian cowboy in his tracks, and his expression changed instantly, like he had snapped out of some sort of trance. He first looked over Seras with confusion, then brought his vision to his raised right hand and almost jumped himself when he noticed the knife it clenched.

Using his free hand, Ocelot hastily tore into his coat and produced, of all things, an inhaler, and quickly forced it into his mouth. A loud hiss signaled whatever medicine was in the inhaler traveling down his throat and into his lungs. About five seconds later, the old man was able to lower his knife and sheathe it again.

"Sorry about that," the FOXHOUND agent apologized. "I thought you would have been briefed on my CBD."

"Uh..." While the incident Seras witnessed was probably one of the most normal things she had seen since her arrival, it was certainly disturbing as ever.

Ocelot gently waved his inhaler in front of his face to draw the vampire's attention. "Without this, I'd be this operation's biggest security risk and you..." Ocelot paused as he slid the inhaler under his coat. "...Would have seventeen holes in your back by now."

"You...I...Bzuh?"

**Ding!**

"I believe this is your floor Sergeant First Class," Ocelot said trying to snap his bewildered would be victim back to reality. "You'd best get moving, Private Sasaki has the worst conduct record in this battalion, and a cold that's been going on for days. Keep him in line, and make sure his prisoners stay in their cells."

Of course, Seras could care less what the old gunman was telling her. She gave the man a wide berth and crept out of the elevator door as quickly as she could.

_Stay away, don't make eye contact._ She thought to herself. _This'll be over as soon as those doors close._

"**Soldier!**" Ocelot snapped, causing Seras to about-face back to the elevator entrance.

The cowboy gave her a mean look, but unlike the random madness that gripped him when she first turned her back on him, it was a more controlled but unreadable expression. What could he want now?

Just a second before the elevator doors closed...Seras got no answer. Instead, Ocelot's empty arms jumped from his side and formed one of the most perplexing gestures Seras had ever seen. In a moment, the index and middle fingers of both hands unfurled from what otherwise would have been a fist, miming the casual dual wielding of his signature weapons.

The gesture's purpose, as well as Ocelot's face, remained unreadable, and Seras could not ask for clarification as the elevator door snapped shut on her.

_...I'm not even going to try anymore_. Seras moaned in her head. Of all the bizarre things on that island, it was that action, that...**hand gesture** that told her any further attempts to ponder what was going on around her would break her brain.

With Ocelot gone, Seras had a chance to look at her surroundings. She was in a gray-green hallway with only two doors. One was a Level 6 door perpendicular to the elevator entrance, well beyond her security clearance. Further down the hall, halfway to be exact—was a door with Level 1 Clearance.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss as its card scanner detected her PAN Card's clearance and silently invited her inside.

The room beyond the door was another metal and concrete affair like the outside hallway. There was a large open floor space from the entrance onward. Two heavy metal doors were along the wall to her left, prison cells perhaps? To her right was a workstation and another door.

And another faceless guard snoring loudly, his head planted on the desk.

"Um...excuse me..." Seras' initial whisper was so overcome by the guard's snoring that even her vampiric hearing couldn't pick up her own voice. "Could you...**please** wake up?"

Seras' answer: More snoring. She walked up the desk and gently nudged the man's shoulder. "Private, you're on duty!"

"ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..."

_Ugh, listen to yourself Seras, you're a soldier, he's a soldier, and if there's anything soldiers, especially American ones respond to, it's..._

Taking a sharp breath and using her still magically masculine voice, Seras bellowed "**TEN-HUT!"**

In a flash, the drowsy private leapt from his seat...and banged his head on the wall as he flew back. The momentum propelled him forward and back onto the desk exactly the way she found him.

At first, Seras thought he'd just been knocked out, but as he lifted an arm to rub the lump on his head, it became apparent that she had the poor grunt's attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Seras nearly squealed as the soldier's pain became evident "Are you all right? You took a nasty bump on the head!" Her commanding tone gave way to a more concerned observation.

"Forget that, sir." Johnny groaned, "at least it took my mind off the cold for a few seconds. Why couldn't this shitstorm wait till I could breathe again?"

At the mention of the affliction, Seras remembered what Ocelot had warned her about in the elevator.

"Are you Private Sasaki?"

"Please, sir," The man asked in a stuffy, nasally voice, "Call me Johnny, everyone else here does."

"Fine by me...Johnny." While affable, the soldier struck the Draculina as remarkably unprofessional in his decorum. Maybe it was just her police academy training and Walter and Integra's sense of stuffy English dignity, but if this man, 'Johnny' had been part of Hellsing, it looked like he would be more likely to die slipping on a banana peel than getting ripped to pieces by the undead.

Fine by her, the more she knew, the better, and she hadn't needed to talk to him much to tell he'd be easy to suck information out of.

"Are you the only guard here?"

"Well, you're here sir..."

"Where are the prisoners?"

"They've escaped and are sunning themselves in Rio now..." an annoyed Johnny replied sarcastically. "...They're in their cells behind you sir."

"Oh," She gave the barest backward glance at the original jail cells before continuing her quest for information. "I mean, don't give me lip soldier! I just need to know if you're on top of things. Ocelot says he's expecting the enemy to come soon, and I can't have my only squadmate sleeping on the job!"

The forceful tone made Johnny sit upright despite his less than pleasant state of health.

_Okay,_ _maybe I was a little too harsh on him_.

"Oh my god!" Johnny's tired eyes were immediately replaced by more alert ones. "Solid Snake?! Here?! Already?!" He hastily fumbled with the rifle he left behind his desk. "Why didn't you say so before?!"

"Uh...I didn't say it was Solid...Wait, who?!" Seras said as the full codename hit her. _Wait, wait, wait! There's a __**Solid**_ _Snake too? Is there also a Gas Snake? Plasma Snake?...Bose-Einstein Condensate Snake?!_

"Geez?! Didn't you pay attention at the briefing sir?" A shocked Johnny replied. "'The Man Who Makes the Impossible Possible'? The bane of Outer Heaven! He's a living legend in the intelligence community!"

"...Any particular reason why I should be worried?" Seras may have been hearing of this character for the first time, but despite knowing not much more than a codename and generic hyperbole, her blood was already starting to go cold.

"Worried? He's the sneakiest bastard of all time!" Johnny's cold, mucus-stuffed nostrils did nothing to inhibit his ability to express fear or reverence. "I heard that during the Zanzibarland Incident, he tricked a soldier into leaving his post by hatching an adult owl from an egg and making it hoot so that the guard would think his shift was over because it was nighttime...except he did it in **broad daylight**...and it worked!" For a man who had only a minute earlier been nearly comatose from the sniffles, the grunt seemed quite invigorated reciting such an unlikely feat.

"...What?" Came Seras' incredulous reply. Partially trying to parse Johnny's run-on sentence and partially trying to figure out how any sane human being could fall for a trick like that...or the utter defiance of avian biology just described.

"...And he fought a ninja astronaut too!"

"Okay, I'm starting to lose brain cells now..." Seras moaned. _And they're not regenerating!_ "...What next, did he MacGuyver up a flamethrower from a cigarette lighter and a can of hairspray and fight a bunch of poisonous hamsters?"

"...Well...not in that order, but-"

"Stop it!" Seras gestured in his face to do so. "Just stop it! I don't care about ghost stories. If Solid Snake is as dangerous as you think, you should probably stay awake."

"Ugh..." Johnny moaned. "It's not my fault sir. This useless cold medicine just keeps knocking me out." He reached for a pill bottle on the desk. "I've been taking it for two days now, and these might as well be M&Ms..." He trailed off when he noticed something off about the now open bottle. "...and they're out now, wonderful. How'd I forget that?!"

"Look, Johnny..." Seras said as the soldier rose from his desk.

"Hold that thought sir. I haven't taken a piss in six hours..." He walked towards a door adjacent to his desk.

"Uh...nevermind." Seras figured she could take advantage of the alone time to get her bearings.

As soon as the private walked through the door, Seras heard a loud buzz come from the direction of the room's entrance. She turned to find the door closed, but the light indicating its lock status was flashing. Someone tried to get in without proper clearance.

Had it been Millennium's ghosts, they could have just phased through the wall, but through the metal barrier, Seras could hear the muffled sound of quick footsteps on the other side.

Her soldierly instincts kicked in and she rushed to the door. It opened with another quiet whoosh as it detected her access card.

She immediately looked to her right towards the elevator, finding nothing. Her head darted left as she heard an abrupt end to the footsteps in question, followed by a slower clickety-clack of something else. There was a left turn at the opposite end of the hall.

Feeling she could risk running after the noise, her vampiric speed let her clear the distance in seconds. She swung her rifle around the corner, expecting the ninja or someone else to be just around the bend.

Instead, she saw a short dead end, empty as the rest of the hallway.

_Get a hold of yourself Seras, Johnny's ghost stories just made you paranoid._

Making her way back to the prison room, Seras never guessed that she hadn't looked hard enough.

There was a small alcove to the left of the dead end with a ladder leading up to an air vent. The cover had been removed an hour earlier to spray for rats, so there was no need for someone to make noise opening it.

In fact, if she had looked into it a second sooner, she would have seen a pair of legs pull themselves into the metal shaft and hear them shuffle off.

* * *

"_Caught a damn cold..." _Seras heard Johnny mutter through the wall as she re-entered, "_...I hate Alaska."_

Seras, however, decided she had missed something on her first trip to the room. She hadn't seen any prisoners since arriving on this floor and remembered the two heavy doors as she passed back through the entrance.

She peered into the cell door closest to the entrance. The filthy interior's sole occupant was a middle-aged black man in a slightly disheveled business suit. He was sitting on his bed, hunched over in unreadable emotion. Contemplating his fate, perhaps?

He had at least 18 hours to live anyway, more than enough time for Seras to come up with a plan to free him...unless the U.S. government was already on top of that.

"_Boy oh boy that woman is built all right."_

Upon hearing Johnny's remark, Seras remembered the neighboring cell before moving for it.

Looking through the slit in the second door, Seras caught a red-headed woman, not much older than she herself appeared; doing crunches on her own bed, grunting none too quietly with each pull up. She had a slightly masculine build, but was hardly the androgynous giant Zorin was, and she was dressed in olive drab combat pants and a matching tank top. Unlike the despairing male prisoner, she seemed rather nonchalant about her predicament.

If she noticed Seras, she gave no word of it.

"_A woman? Not him."_

Seras' eyes shot upwards. Did she just hear someone whisper?

Her eyes caught an air vent on the ceiling in the back of the cell. It was a sharp angle, but Seras could have sworn she saw something move in there. Now that she was paying attention, she could hear sluggish shuffling, like something barely squeezing through the narrow shaft.

"...Do you mind?"

The redhead had paused her crunches to glare at the disguised vampire. Despite the fact that she was clearly one of the hostages, she didn't seem very...well, terrorized, by her terrorist captors.

"Oh, sorry...uh...Keep going, no pain no gain, right?"

The woman rolled her eyes before repeating her routine.

_There was someone in that vent!_ Seras backed away, still straining to hear the rattling of something..._someone_ snaking through there.

"Sir?"

"Eep!" Seras about-faced to find Johnny's faceless...face in her...face. Before she could process that information, she reflexively sent the butt of her FAMAS into his chin, knocking him to the floor.

"Augh! Sorry Johnny!" She took a desperate glance at the other cell, worried about what would happen next. "Ugh, listen, just get back to your post and keep an eye on things, I'm going back out into the hall again..." She added thoughtfully "...and don't sneak up on me like that, you could put your eye out!"

At first, the private was silent and still. Seras started wondering if maybe her slam to the face may have been more forceful than she intended.

But to her relief, while the gunman still lay on the floor, he limply raised his right hand in a weak salute before trying to reorient himself.

Quickly, Seras paced out the door and back to the hall. Turning right towards the elevator, she took a few steps before examining her surroundings and planting her ear against the wall where she assumed the older man's cell was.

No sooner did she do this than she heard a metallic clank, shortly followed by the muffled sound of something hitting the floor, punctuated by a panicked whisper from the other side.

"_Who...__**Who's that?!" **_She heard a raspy baritone from the other side of the wall.

To her surprise, Seras heard a reply.

"_I'm here to save you."_ Growled a voice sounded like it started smoking straight out of the womb. "_You're the DARPA Chief, Donald Anderson, right?"_

A beat...

"_You're here to save me, huh?"_ The deeper-voiced speaker asked with a pinch of cynicism. "_What's your outfit?"_

A smidge of annoyance and contempt peppered the reply.

"_I'm the pawn they sent in here to save your worthless butt..."_

_

* * *

_"_Oh, great… more tourists." _A 'woman', who looked very much like the skin over her face had been violently torn off, said in a gravely tone that sounded more like a death rattle then casual conversation. "_Name's Willow." _The 'ghoul' continued while taking a cigarette out of her pocket. "_So, what brings you to the Mall, Smooth Skins? Out sight seeing? Or are you two off on some kind of quest?_" She finished as she lit the coffin nail up and brought it to… what was left of her lips.

Although Seras had already informed her old master about the existence of 'intelligent ghouls', Alucard still found himself a little taken back by meeting one face to face. "A quest… of sorts. We're looking for the entrance to Underworld." The ancient vampire answered, though he felt more like he should have been pulling out his Jackal and shooting the 'woman' in the head. Talking to 'ghouls' was going to take some getting used to.

"_Entrance is in the Museum of History. Right behind me, Red." _Willow replied as she jerked her thumb back. "_Just look for the big skull… and make sure to leave whatever trouble's chasing you at the door. God knows, we've already got more than our fair share."_

Seras thanked the ghoul for the directions, and the two vampires made their way towards the museum entrance.

"_No problem." _Willow said as she took a long drag of her cigarette, "_Oh… and watch out for the ferals. Sometimes they jump smooth skin visitors on their way to Underworld."_

"Oh, I don't think they'll pose much of a threat." Alucard responded with a grin as he removed his ebony pistol from the left-breast inside pocket of his red trench-coat.

* * *

As soon as the pair of vampires entered the museum, they felt the malevolent presence of the feral ghouls, mad creatures that had long since lost their humanity and were now driven only by their most basic primitive instincts, one of the most powerful of which being the feeding instinct. Before the vampires had taken more than five steps, the first pack of ferals attacked.

They came out of doors to the left and right and charged, headlong, at the vampire 'smooth skins'.

Alucard turned and fired his Jackal at the ghouls attacking from the right, leaving his one time fledgling to deal with those coming from the left.

Seras kept her Fat Man slung across her shoulder. It would've been dangerous, potentially suicidal, for her to fire a Mini-Nuke in such close quarters. Besides, it also would've been a waste. Mini-Nukes were quite expensive, since no facilities still existed to produce them, and all that remained were left-overs from two hundred years into the past. And it wasn't like the 5.56mm rounds from her Chinese assault rifle weren't doing an adequate job of cutting the ferals to pieces.

But still they came. Through the hail of bullets, over the bodies of their fallen comrades and right into the jaws of death itself, the ferals continued their frenzied charge, and a few of them managed to get in close enough to swipe at the vampires… not that it did the ghouls much good.

The shadowy substance that made up Alucard's body, and somewhere along the line had come to replace Seras's tissue as well, simply reformed where damaged. It flowed back into the cuts and gashes like a dark tide flowing over a sandy shore. Still the ferals fought, apparently not even possessing enough intelligence to understand when they were beaten.

Alucard laughed like a man possessed and turned to Seras, the Jackal's rounds still being guided by the vampire's 'third eye'. "Isn't this fun, Police Girl?"

Seras smiled nostalgically back at him. After two centuries, it felt good to be fighting along side her old master again. But then the one-time fledgling's smile vanished, and she shouted, "Master, above you!"

Alucard turned his head to look up, keeping his third eye still trained on the ferals who were charging him from the right, and saw some peculiar sort of glowing ghoul leap off the top of the staircase in front of him. The vampire repositioned his gun, now taking aim at the luminescent, yellowish green creature flying at him. "Say goodnight, Glowie." Alucard quipped as he fired a round directly through the ghoul's head.

A sickly, pus-like, thick liquid spurt out of the hole in the ghoul's head; but rather than dying or turning to dust, the ghoul hissed loudly as the wound sealed itself. "Huh, that's new." Alucard commented as his head tilted slightly to the left, and the creature landed right in front of him.

The glowing ghoul did not swipe at the vampire as the others had done. Instead it merely shook, for a moment bearing a slight resemblance to a human in the throws of a seizure. Then a searing green energy burst from the ghoul's body, knocking Alucard back into the far wall.

"Master!" Seras screamed as she leveled her weapon and sprayed a volley of shots across the glowing ghoul's neck, decapitating the creature.

Alucard just whistled before getting back up and seeing the glowing ghoul's dead body lying on the museum floor. The ancient vampire turned to his one time fledgling. "Ahhh, why'd you kill him? I was looking forward to 'playing' with him a bit longer… He was much more fun than the others."

Seras merely shook her head. Over the years she'd started to forget just how insane her old master was. "Sorry, Master."

* * *

Seras heard strange noises coming to room then the sound of a body hitting the floor. She started towards the door, but stopped half-way to it, the vampire's sixth sense telling her that the _DARPA_ chief was already dead.

What could possibly have killed him? He was standing in a sealed room, with no one, but the man who'd come to rescue him. Had this strange assortment of nut house rejects, who fancied themselves revolutionaries, hired Darth Vader too? Did she now have to worry about some wheezing cyborg who could 'Force-Choke' people from halfway across the galaxy?! Honestly, with the day she'd been having, it wouldn't have surprised her one bit.

And now she had to deal with the fact that the 'revolutionaries' were only one code away from possessing nuclear capabilities! Nukes in the hands of terrorists, it was every soldier's worst nightmare!

On top of that, the mysterious rescuer said it wasn't the first time he had encountered a robot monster like the one she saw in that hangar on the other side of the island. Oh, this just kept getting better all the time, didn't it? Seras let out a long sigh while she thought about her current predicament.

The vampire had just decided to head into the cell and try to talk to the American agent (maybe he could help better understand what the bloody hell was going on), when she head a shout of, "Clear!" from somewhere behind her. Turning towards the elevator, she saw a whole squad of soldiers, much better armed and armored than she was; and they were either ducking into the entrance of the room with the Level 6 door or coming down the hall at her.

"Stand back sir, we're getting ready to clear." Shouted the approaching leader.

"What, how'd you know...I mean, what makes you think anyone is in there?"

"Not now sir! Stand back!"

Still unsure of what she did, Seras stood back and let the men surround the door.

* * *

The soldier crept out of his surprisingly now open cell door. An open space like the one in front of him would make for a surprisingly good ambush from his position, but since the air shaft was too high for him to climb back into, he had no choice.

Scanning the room, he found a more complete picture from what he saw in the vents earlier. The left wall, a naked man unconscious, ass up in the air and face planted on the floor, a desk, a...

Wait, **what?**

The intruder immediately redirected his attention to the naked, unconscious body on the floor. Had he brought his head any further to the right before that, he would have noticed the gun that was now pointed at the back of his head.

"**Don't move!**" Ordered a strong, feminine voice.

His only indication of surprise was a barely audible gasp. He could just make out the barrel of a rifle from his peripheral vision.

"So you killed the chief...You bastard!"

The man didn't have any patience for this. He slowly turned to face his assailant. She was dressed in one of the enemy's uniforms, her mask concealed most of her face, but her eyes betrayed a measure of shock and...recognition?

"Liquid?!..." She squinted, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her, "No...You're not."

Her target, already an arm's length away, hunched over for a maneuver she couldn't yet identify. She wouldn't be caught off guard though.

"**Don't move!**" She warned a little louder than she wanted to.

The man, however, got an eyeful of gun, noticing it rattling visibly in her hands. When he spoke, he didn't sound the least bit threatened.

"Is this the first time you've ever pointed a gun at a person? Your hands are shaking."

The woman gasped, but did not back down.

However, in the blink of an eye, a heavy looking pistol left the man's holster. He propped it little more than a foot from her face.

"Can you shoot me rookie?" He asked coldly.

"Careful! I'm no rookie!" The disguised woman threatened.

"Liar!" The spy growled. "That nervous glance, that scared look in your eyes...They're rookie's eyes if I ever saw them." His eyebrow raised, as if he had found the answer to a trigonometry problem. "You've never shot a person, am I right?"

"You talk too much!" She hissed.

"You haven't even taken the safety off, rookie."

"**I told you, I'm no rookie!!!"** However, she realized this argument was pointless. This man may have killed the Chief, but it was increasingly apparent he wasn't on Liquid's side...jarring considering his appearance, but nonetheless...

"You're not one of them, are you?" He asked.

She ignored his question, glancing over her shoulder. "Open that door!" She commanded, "You've got a card, don't you?"

"Why?"

"So we can get the hell out of here!" Her tone was the same as a mother telling her child why they shouldn't punch people.

However, the door was opened for them as a trio of shock troopers burst into the room.

"Looks like we're going to be a little delayed!" They both spread out, aiming at the fire team as they brought their own weapons out.

"What are you doing? Don't think! **Shoot!**"

* * *

Seras peaked around the corner, seeing flashes of gunfire on the wall and the staccato of machine gun fire destroying what little quiet remained in the hallway.

No sooner did the gunfire cease than a second fire team charge past her to the door.

"_What are you waiting for?! Shoot!"_ She heard the gravel-voice shout, audibly frustrated.

"_Don't talk to me like a rookie!"_ A familiar, feminine voice yelled.

Even as the soldiers crossed into the room, the argument pitched in true married-couple fashion.

"_I'm telling you, __**shoot!**_"

Something must have snapped, but with a throaty scream, a continuous, uninterrupted stream of bullets ended the attempted clearing.

Unfortunately, before she could try to quietly sneak away, she was shoved forward as two more soldiers took their turn to attack...whoever was in the room.

Despite wanting no part of this mess, reflex made her get into a soldierly stance as she and her two faceless companions barged through the door to come face to face with...

_Wait a minute!_ She said getting a first glimpse of her opponents. _Johnny's not with the terrorists?_

However, just a few feet to Johnny's left was a man in some sort of blue bodysuit. However, a closer look at his face revealed...

...Well, it would have revealed something if the man in blue hadn't put a .45 caliber bullet in her eye.

A headshot with normal ammunition was a non-issue for the Draculina, but the stopping power of the heavy pistol, coupled with a bullet to the eye, stunned the vampire long enough for a three round burst to perforate her chest. She still would have recovered if one of the men next to her hadn't fallen over with even more bullets in his chest and sent her tumbling over the corpses and onto the floor.

Both her attackers assumed she was dead and simply gunned down the final squadmate and she stifled a grunt as his corpse landed atop her.

_You know what? I'm better off sitting this one out._ She mentally moaned. _Things can't get worse if I just lie low._

**Click**

Seras weakly moved her head just in time to see several fist sized pineapple-like objects land among the field of corpses, forcing the two hostiles to flee to the back of the room.

_...Why me?_

With a trio of simultaneous booms and the force of a semi hitting her from several directions at once, Seras' world went dark.

* * *

Integra was sleeping soundly. Although the bed in Balmoral Castle was not quite the same as her own, it was every bit as luxurious and comfortable as what the Hellsing heir was used to. After all, nothing but the best would do for the Queen... and her guests.

Yes, Integra was resting quite comfortably... until she was roused from her dreamless sleep by the sound of her large chamber door being roughly slammed open. The knight's eyes shot open; and, in a flash, she was sitting upright and aiming a revolver (that she'd kept tucked under her pillow) directly at the now open door.

However, she relaxed slightly as she noticed the, mostly shadowed but still recognizable, tall, familiar figure standing in the doorway. "It's a bit late, isn't it?" The knight said.

"Only if you're a human." The Count replied with false calm.

"And what, just because you sleep the day away and prowl the night, you forgot the rest of us have more normal routines?" The Count was silent; and after a moment, Integra just sighed and continued, "So, what is so urgent that you felt the need to invade my bed chamber in the dead of night?"

"I merely wanted to report that my mission was a success, 'Master'." The ancient vampire replied in an unfamiliar, snarling tone; and the knight caught a flash of movement from his right hand.

Then Integra felt something land on her bed. Before she had time to truly contemplate why her future servant was acting so strangely, the knight felt something roundish and slightly smaller than a basketball brush up against her leg. With a puzzled expression, Integra reached out and grabbed the object. She raised it up, basking it in the moonlight that was shining through one of the room's large, ornate windows and falling gently across a strip of her bed.

And then Integra saw what her future servant had tossed to her. She held a dismembered head in her hands! Integra shrieked, more out of surprise than fear and threw the wretched thing, a thin stream of blood still flowing from its neck and leaving a crimson trail upon the embroidered comforter that covered the bed. "What is the meaning of this!!!" Integra, outraged, screamed at the vampire as the head landed by his feet.

"That..." The Count began, his voice rising from a low growl to one that would rival Integra's in both volume and fury. "...is the head of the last of my loyal servants, the servants I was just forced to hunt down and kill! I thought you might want it as a memento, my master." The Count jeered, a tone of obvious disgust lacing the last word. "If not, I'm sure your queen will appreciate it as a token of my loyalty!"

Though her natural impulse was to scream and shout in response to the Count's insolence, Integra reeled in that compulsion. "I... I told you to wait... that I'd take care of it; I'd talk to them. Why... why didn't you wait?" The knight replied in a rare, soft, almost tender tone, a tone that turned away much of her future servant's wrath.

The Count stopped his yelling, though his voice still held a rough and angered edge. "I could not. Three hours ago that... that... 'man' summoned me. He ordered me to carry out the Queen's command. It was a direct order; and thanks to that binding ceremony, **I had no choice!**" The ancient vampire's voice rose again as he slammed his fist into a nearby, mahogany dresser, reducing the piece of furniture to nothing more than a pile of rubble.

Then the Count stooped down and retrieved the severed head. He turned its face to his, and stared at it for a moment. "Ion, my huntsman. He provided the meat for my other servants and would drain the animals' blood into a pot for me. He'd heat it and season it until it was almost like a thick soup and then bring it to me. It... it was delicious... and I never told him. I should've told him." The vampire commented as he stared at the head; and, for a moment, an unreadable mixture of emotions played across the vampire's face.

Then the other emotions gave way to a look of pure sadness and regret as the Count felt a strong, but feminine, arm wrap around him in a comforting manner. The vampire turned to the knight. "He stared up at me, eyes wide; and with his dying breath, he asked me, 'Why?'. Tell me... as I watched the last flicker of life drain from my loyal servant's eyes, what should I have answered him?"

As Integra stared at the Count, her heart ached for him in a way it never had before. She remembered when she'd been forced to execute a number of her own, undead servants. It was in the wake of the Valentine brother's raid, and several of the same people who gave their lives in defense of her and the other Round Table Conference members had been turned into ghouls. Jan Valentine had used them to form the backbone of his second wave; and although Integra's forces had won the battle, some of the ghouls still survived it. She was then forced to go around to each of the survivors and drive a bullet into their heads. Executing her own loyal servants had been the hardest thing the knight had ever done.

And what her future servant had gone through was doubtless even worse. For he was not killing turned servants. He could not comfort himself with the idea that he was just putting them out of their misery. No, it was no 'execution for their own good'. He'd been forced to hunt down and murder them in cold blood.

"I'm sorry." Integra said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. "I'm sorry." She repeated the foreign words, and the Count began to relax against her. "I'm sorry." She stated a final time before adding, "But, I can assure you, you will never be forced to do something like that again."

"You have no power over that man." The Count replied quietly. "How can you promise something like that?"

Integra reached down and removed a small dagger from the pile of busted wood that had been a beautiful dresser only a few minutes earlier. She firmly grasped the blade with her right hand and quickly jerked it down, only slightly wincing at the deep gash she'd cut into her hand. Then the knight gently pressed her bleeding hand into the seal upon the Count's gloves. "Cruor ad cruor. Somes ad somes. Animus ad Animus. Per is vitualamen vos es iam ad meus votum... quod TANTUM MEUS VOTUM. Vernula ad Vinco."* She softly whispered, causing a faint, bittersweet smile to form upon the vampire's face.

"Yes, my master." Alucard breathed out slowly.

* * *

*Latin for: "Blood to blood. Body to body. Soul to Soul. Through this sacrifice you are now bound to me... and ONLY ME. Servant to Master."

(Hey everyone, sorry about the long wait, but we hope you enjoyed the update. Please drop us a review, and let us know what you thought thanks,

Have a good day, and God bless.

Crow T. R0bot and Metropolis Kid.)

**PS. **From Metropolis Kid: Going out of town again this coming week. Got some banking that needs to be done... and something, involving a lawyer, that needs to be taken care of. (don't worry, it's nothing involving illegalities or anything. LOL) But I probably won't be updating any stories next week. Sorry :(


	16. Disaster of Disguise

**Disaster of Disguise**

"...Am I too late?"

Solid Snake stepped through the hole he had blasted in the wall. He found the elderly hostage tied to a steal beam in the center of the room. Dozens of cables held in place by four other pillars positioned equidistantly from the center of the square room held him in a standing position. The ArmsTech president, however, did not appear conscious. In fact, he looked quite dead.

The man took a step forward and nearly jumped as the old man jerked to life with a violent coughing fit. The bandana-clad intruder could have sworn some fresh blood dribbled out of the hostage's mouth at the climax of his coughing.

_He's alive_...

The dazed CEO slowly jerked his head side to side, never actually focusing on his rescuer.

"You're the ArmsTech president, Kenneth Baker, right?" It was a stupid question, but he needed Baker's attention.

The man gasped and sputtered, but was too incoherent to speak. The spy wasn't even sure he even noticed him despite standing only a few feet away.

"Don't worry, I'm here to save you," he assured as he approached the hostage. He examined the curiously placed steel cables holding him in place. Not sure where to start, he slowly reached his hand out to test their strength when...

"N-n-N-**No! Don't touch it!**" The man wheezed in a sudden bout of coherence. The cry was enough to get his rescuer to freeze in place.

Following the cables to the outer columns, the infiltrator saw what had panicked Baker.

The columns, all of them in fact, including right above the pillar his hostage was tied to, were covered in blocks upon blocks of...

"**C4!**" He growled.

_Click_

The noise did not go unheard by The Man Who Made The Impossible Possible. He turned just in time to see a gun poking out from behind one of the pillars in the back of the room. In a heartbeat, he leapt just in time for a resounding **crack** to echo through the room and flipped away just in time to see a bullet hit the wall, flying through the space he once occupied.

Landing on his feet, he drew his attention back to the source of the gunshot.

"Right! Touch that wire, and the C4 will blow up along with the old man!" snarled a raspy, aged voice.

Looking up, he saw the outline of a figure poking out from behind the pillar at the upper left corner of the room. A revolver twirled in his hand.

"So you're the one that the boss keeps talking about," remarked the figure.

"And you?" Snake asked.

The gun toting attacker smirked. "Special Operations FOXHOUND..." He tossed his gun in the air, catching it and theatrically twirling it in his right hand like a Basketball in the hands of a Harlem Globetrotter. "Revolver..." another pause came as he artfully flipped and twirled the gun in his hand with a blinding finesse. It took him all of fifteen seconds to complete the display before continuing his introduction with the word "...Ocelot."

With that, the Russian cowboy did one more twirl before holstering his eponymous sidearm and stepping out from behind his cover. The only thing that stood between him and his opponent were the detonator wires for the explosives ready to blow up anyone at the slightest misstep.

He analyzed his blue-suited opponent with nostalgia. The last time he saw that face in battle was nearly 41 years earlier in Tselinoyarsk. The eyes were blue this time, rather than green, and a different man dwelt behind that face, but Ocelot could sense that combat came to this man as naturally as breathing.

Just like his 'brother.'

...and 'father.'

"I've been waiting for you, Solid Snake," said Ocelot with a hint of glee. "Now we'll see if the man can live up to the legend!"

In a heartbeat, both men drew their sidearms, but to Snake's surprise, Ocelot did not fire.

Instead, he withdrew his gun, gently opening its chamber and emptying the weapon's casings on the floor.

"This is the greatest handgun ever made: The Colt Single Action Army." And a great gun it was for a man like Ocelot. Not only did it go well with the man's cowboy motif, but given that its low bullet velocity meant it was unlikely that a bullet would go right through its target, the agony and injury it inflicted was perfectly fitting for a sadist like him.

"Six bullets," he said thumbing fresh bullets into the six chambers in rapid succession. "More than enough to kill anything that moves."

He slammed the chamber shut and spun it before once again holstering it.

Partially out of surprise for the old man's nonchalance, Snake, with nothing more than a gesture from Ocelot, slowly holstered his own SOCOM pistol, but kept his hand close to it. This operative was obviously senile. It wouldn't hurt to indulge his spaghetti western fantasies.

"Now I'll show you why they call me 'Revolver.'"

The sickly CEO's wheezing was the only sound left in the room as the two soldiers narrowed their eyes at one another, waiting to make the first move. Even if one fired before the other, it was unlikely the fight would be decided solely because of who fired first. The tension was thick, both opponents were fully loaded, and their trigger fingers twitched as the silence dragged on.

...

...

...

...

"...**Draw!**"

* * *

"_Mmmngh?!"_

Seras weakly opened her eyes at that sound, exposing her vision to the aftermath of the carnage around her.

Bullet riddled and grenade battered corpses filled the floor, about a dozen in all, and as she sat up, she saw more than her share of blood, not all of which was hers.

In fact, the vampire recoiled when she noticed the stains on her uniform shrinking, realizing she was somehow drawing the blood into her skin. She used the newfound energy from this meal to jump up in shock. She had never done that before. She quickly thought about stopping the odd method of drinking and was relieved to see the streams of blood crawling to her stop in place.

"Did you remember to thank the meal?"

Seras' eyes darted to her left to see none other than Vulcan Raven emerging from one of the prison cells, holding a bloodless corpse of what she assumed was the DARPA Chief over his shoulder with all the effort of doing the same with a pillow. His expression was grim, but it didn't seem to be from failing to listen to an Indian proverb.

"I...wasn't exactly awake for it," she mumbled, trying to keep her eyes off the corpses.

"Ugh, did someone take a pickaxe to my head?"

The vampire and the muscleman both turned their eyes to the back of the room. A familiar sounding naked man clumsily and wearily rose to his feet. Seras blushed under her mask as he turned to face the two people in the room with him, still dazed and seemingly unaware of his state of undress.

"...and did it just get ten degrees colder in here?" Seras could have sworn it was...

"Johnny?!" She snapped in recognition. That stuffy nosed, dorky voice was definitely his, though given his appearance, it was a little jarring.

He was adequately sculpted for a soldier. That should have been a given despite his less than soldierly behavior. And despite his Japanese sounding surname, he didn't look even remotely Asian. In fact, with his neatly combed blond hair and cleanly shaved face, he looked like a younger Liquid.

In other words, to Seras' chagrin, he was surprisingly handsome.

That was the most detail the prudish vampire dared take in as she struggled to keep her focus on the dazed soldier above his beltline.

"Uh, Raven, Sarge, sirs!" He snapped into a salute as he noticed the two other survivors. The stance made Seras almost reflexively avert her gaze.

"Feeling a draft, private?" Seras could barely hear a trace of teasing sarcasm in the Inuit's otherwise monotonous voice.

"What?" Johnny blinked before his rigid posture broke. He had felt a considerable chill, but thought nothing of it until his eyes drifted downward.

"**By the beard of Lincoln!**" Johnny cried as he finally noticed his state of undress. Immediately applying his hands to the task of covering himself, he cried "That bitch stole my uniform!"

"**What?**" Seras responded, "I didn't steal anyone's uniform, I was issued it just...like..." Seras trailed off as she got a confused glare from the nude soldier. "I mean, that's going to be a problem."

"Damn right it's a problem!" Johnny yelped as much as his clogged nostrils would allow. "What the **hell** did she need my boxers for?"

_I could ask the same question._ Seras thought while blushing profusely under her balaclava.

"Come with me, private," Raven said while shaking his head. "We can get you a spare uniform down the hall."

As the nude soldier scampered past an increasingly flustered Seras, she could hear him mutter...

"...I hope you have a spare dignity too."

As Raven turned to follow Johnny out, Seras got a good glimpse of the corpse slung over his shoulder. It was certainly dressed like the DARPA Chief, but...

The dark skin terminated at the edges of the corpse's face. Underneath that layer of flesh was a ghostly pale face that Seras had only seen in a photograph scarcely an hour earlier. Its pasty complexion and the milky white eyes could have only belonged to...

"-dammit, R...en. Why...n't...ou...sten?!"

Seras' attention was drawn away from the departing shaman as a broken voice shouted after him. It was drawn to the "DARPA Chief's" old jail cell, where she could see a figure coalescing into a visible, tangible form. A heavy looking trench coat and a fedora manifested and...

...That was it, two articles of empty clothing quickly hovered out of the cell, following Raven to the exit before catching a glimpse of what he was carrying. Curiously, the body Raven carried gave the floating coat no small amount of pause.

"**What the hell?**" Seras and the newcomer muttered in unison. However, Seras was not quiet enough to avoid the disembodied cloak's attention.

"Dios Mio..." a voice rose from the floating coat. "You can see me...hear me?"

"Uh..." Was this a ghost? It was certainly new. All ghosts she had encountered had a tangible semblance of flesh and blood, yet now, Seras was talking to an empty coat hovering on its own accord. "I can hear you...but I'm not sure if I **see** you."

The figure silently raised its arms, apparently to examine them if the angle the hovering hat now sat at were any indication. There were no hands or arms in the sleeves, just empty air that somehow supported the weight.

"Well, this isn't my first out of body experience meng." The accent was richly Mexican, and familiar. "I've been so many people so often; I've forgotten what my original face looks like. It first became apparent when the rest of the unit and I had to go into Ocelot's head to get him out of a coma; funny story really. It started with..." He didn't get a chance to run his mouth off before Seras sent another question at him.

"Been other people?" That description sounded quite familiar. "Are you...?"

"Oh, forgot," the specter interrupted. "Having just died is no excuse for me to be rude." With that, the ghost lifted an invisible hand to pry the hat from its invisible head, bending into a slight bow the vampire. "Me llamo Decoy Octopus, Special Operations FOXHOUND."

"Decoy Octopus?" Seras repeated. "What were you doing disguised as the DARPA Chief?"

"A very good question." Octopus remarked. "One I am not going to answer to satisfy your curiosity. It's just a little something to throw Solid Snake for a loop."

"Solid Snake?" Seras whispered. _I got shot in the face by Solid Snake? Of course, Johnny mentioned he'd be here._ "What were you going to do with him before..." Seras' initial question brought up an entirely new one. "...Come to think of it, what happened to you?"

"Que?"

"How did you die? Weren't you alone with Snake...or whoever that was with you?"

"Well," the floating coat began. "He was the only other person in there. I was trying to wring him out for information and was asking if he'd been briefed on any ways to activa-..." He hesitated mid-syllable. "I mean, **disarm** Metal Gear so...you know, we could make sure he wouldn't."

Before Seras could further examine his fumbling speech, he quickly continued "Then before you knew it, I felt like my heart was about to explode, my lungs shut down, I went limp, blacked out and, well..." He spread out his arms "...here I am."

"Okay, I'll take your word for that, but did you have any idea what Snake would do next?"

"Well yes," Octopus stroked his invisible chin thoughtfully. "He should be on his way to rescue the Pillsbury Doughboy now."

"Who?"

"ArmsTech's head CEO, Kenneth Baker," he clarified. "...and when I last checked our battle plan, I believe Ocelot is scheduled to have a little fun with Snake when he comes to the rescue..."

* * *

"You're pretty good!" Ocelot rasped as he ducked behind a pillar. Such words, however simple, were reserved for only his worthiest opponents, "Just what I'd expect from the man with the same codename as the boss!"

He could hear Snake sliding another magazine into his SOCOM pistol opposite his own corner. It had been years since he had faced a soldier who he actually needed **effort** to kill, and Snake had ended that streak. Even Ocelot's masterful ricochet shots rarely hit the former FOXHOUND operative.

"It's been a long time since I had such a good fight..." He continued, "...but I'm just getting warmed up!"

Gently flipping his gun off his fingers before catching it again, he whirled around the column, catching Snake emerging from his useless cover to fire off a shot.

The gunman smirked, lining up his shot before Snake did.

It didn't last.

**SHNIKT!**

The sound, accompanied by a strange blur passing in front of Ocelot's eyes forced a grunt out of him. A sharp pain appeared along with a strange numbness as his gun clattered to the floor...

...With his hand still gripping it.

It took three full seconds for the shock to register.

"**Whaaat?!**" the FOXHOUND agent snarled, slowly pulling his arm back in disbelief. He was rewarded with a gush of blood that he reflexively tried to stem with a squeeze from his remaining hand. "**My hand!**" Any further attempts to speak simply came out as incoherent snarls of pain.

As he stumbled over the waves of agony, Ocelot failed to notice the same force that parted him with his shooting hand leap through and slice the detonator cables restraining the ArmsTech President and keeping the C4 from detonating. Baker slumped forward just in time to avoid the wave of fire that sent both Snake and Ocelot slamming into the concrete walls.

As they both recovered, they noticed a motionless shimmer in the air sitting between them. It sparked, flickered, and finally took on a visible form of a ninja...

...a **cyborg** ninja.

"**Stealth camouflage!**" Ocelot hissed in recognition.

Despite his shout, the ninja ignored him. Ocelot took this as an opportunity to rise to his feet and leap for his gun and the hand still holding it. Despite the dazing blood loss, he executed a successful diving roll. In a single fluid movement, he had tucked the hand under his right armpit and taken the gun into his left hand. He stopped just in time to catch the ninja wave its sword in a move of intimidation.

It was difficult to make out the ninja's features through the flames at first, but as the blue and red exoskeleton and the glowing red eye registered in Ocelot's memory, the gunman instantly recognized it. He had only seen one prototype of the Tokugawa Heavy Industries' exoskeleton in recent years, and the only person he'd seen wearing it was...

"...Can't you even die right?!" He sneered at the ninja.

Rising to his feet as easily as he could with only one arm, Ocelot dared to take his eyes off the ninja to see Snake peeking from behind one of the columns. The ninja would be his problem now.

"You were lucky..." Ocelot snarled. "**We'll meet again!**"

And with that, Ocelot turned tail out of the makeshift entrance Snake had made and vanished down the corridor, leaving him alone with the cyborg wildcard.

Hoping that the newcomer was still distracted by Ocelot's retreat, Snake leapt from behind his cover, took aim at the ninja and shouted: "**Who are you?!**"

At first the ninja didn't move. Snake was about to shout again when the thing barely craned its head backwards. Slowly, it lowered its sword and brought itself face to face with the bandana-clad mercenary.

"_I'm like you_..." Its synthetic voice rasped. "..._I have no name_**.**"

* * *

"Yup," Octopus remarked. "Good ol' reliable Ocelot."

"Uh, why did you pause for two whole minutes?" Seras inquired.

"Oh that?" Octopus counter-asked. "It happens all the time. It's pretty good when you need a little break from the action."

"Well it gets a little creepy when I see a trench coat dangling in front of me in complete silence for that long," complained the vampire. "Or talking to an empty coat at all, all the ghosts I've spoken to actually look like, well..." unable to find a more elaborate word, she ended it on "...people."

"I feel so special," Octopus drawled. Once again, he brought up an invisible hand to an invisible chin, pondering something.

"Um, Octopus, sir, what are you..."

Seras was quietly interrupted as the coat hovered up to her, seemingly on eye level. The way the upper body leaned at her gave her no small amount of discomfort, but by the time she recognized what Octopus was doing, she felt something blunt and hard press down on her neck, tearing through her uniform's fabric and the skin beneath it with surprising ease.

Seras knew how to react, it was just that the suddenness of the move, coupled with the higher pain threshold she had gained from being undead, made her slow to grab Octopus' shoulders and shove him away.

The ghost landed on the floor with a pained grunt, rolling around helplessly for a minute. His groans were accompanied by a strange hacking sound, like a child who had tasted spinach for the first time. In the man's invisible face, Seras could see a surprising amount of blood sliding down an invisible throat and out of sight.

"Oh my god..." Seras muttered. "You're a vampire?!"

"What?!" the trench coat asked as it pulled itself back up. "Don't be an idiot. If I'm a vampire, then you're Dom DeLuise!" With that, Octopus seemed to gag slightly. "...and considering how he takes care of himself, that's a damned good analogy! Your blood tastes like glue!"

"...My blood is fine," Seras half-muttered, half-pouted. "What did you need it for anyway?"

Standing back up, Octopus rummaged one of his coat's pockets for something.

"Well, hopefully talking to a mirror isn't as creepy as talking to a floating coat if that's what's been bugging you so much."

As he produced a small vial of pills, Seras wondered what Octopus was talking about...until she remembered just what she read in his profile.

"Wait, you're going to...?" Seras surmised allowed before Octopus finished for her.

"...Do a little shapeshifting? Hit that one right on the head, you did." He popped out a set of non-descript pills, closing the bottle mid-sentence.

"Uh, I'm not sure you want to..."

Seras didn't finish before the man shoved the pills down his throat.

"Oh come on, a guy's gotta see a face in the mirror some time, even if it's not his own." He said as the pills seemed to squirm their way down an unseen esophagus.

"I'm not sure you're going to like what you'll see." Seras warned, her cover was as good as blown.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"How do you know it'll even work anyway, I mean, I can't see you." Seras observed, trying to hide the hope in her voice, "and even if you're a shapeshifter, invisibility and visibility...aren't...shapes." She trailed off as she saw something white start to grow out from under Octopus' hat.

Bone...

In little more than five seconds, a skull and a spinal column filled in the space between the fedora and the coat collar, leaving Seras to presume the rest of the skeleton was filling in underneath as well. Soon, red threads of muscle weaved their way around the skeletal frame, and Seras could see brain matter and eventually eyeballs forming in the sockets before her.

The skin and hair had just barely started for form when she finally recognized the face being created.

She really **was** looking into a mirror.

Having been still most of the change, Seras jumped when Octopus lurched over, brought a hand to his coat and, in an overly dramatic fashion, tore the clothing off and let it flutter away. Due to its spiritual nature, the jacket dissolved into invisible ether when it left its owner's hand.

To Seras' surprise (and relief), despite having nothing to do with genetics, Octopus had somehow created a perfect replica of her own Hellsing uniform, down to the placements of pockets and the familiar insignia on her shoulder. Even the doppelganger's hair length and style matched Seras' perfectly.

Standing upright, a proud smirk crossed The Master of Disguise's lips when 'he' noticed Seras' stare.

"If you have issues with self-image, I'm happy to he-..." Octopus stopped mid-syllable when 'his' voice caught up with him. His smug smirk had long since been replaced by a surprised frown that Seras herself wore whenever something caught her off guard.

"Testing..." Octopus said as blankly as he could. Seras was as shocked as he seemed to be, besides the huge difference in accents, Octopus had managed to mimic even her voice.

Without looking down the FOXHOUND ghost brought a rather manicured hand up to 'his' face, examining it sternly, like some pulp detective. 'He' brought it down to 'his' chest and, to Seras' embarrassed bemusement, cupped it in his hands before squeezing for good measure.

"Hombre," 'he' said in a low voice, lacing it with as much irony as 'his' new quietness would allow. "What the hell are **these?**" The agent emphasized that last word with a hiss and another squeeze.

"Uh..." _Come on Seras, think quickly._ "...your imagination?" She answered with a nervous laugh.

No sooner did she answer than did an unamused Octopus close the gap between them and forcefully tear off her balaclava. Her hair was frizzled from being stuffed under the hood, but recognizable. Seras quietly grabbed the mask out of his hands and pulled it back over her head. Someone could come by her any minute and know she wasn't one of them.

"How did throw your voice like that?" 'He' asked quietly.

"Well..." Seras' answer stopped immediately. Truth be told, she had been so worried about what was going on around her that she scarcely could begin to wonder how she had been able to change her voice from a young English woman to an American man of equal age. Was it some sort of new vampire power? She had become comfortable with drinking medical blood a little more often. Maybe that allowed it to develop.

However, before she could share her theory with her doppelganger, the prison door opened.

"Why are you still wasting your time here, Sergeant?" asked the only other British voice on the island.

Seras peered over her 'twin's' shoulder to see an annoyed Liquid standing in the doorway, frowning.

"Oh, sir, I thought you were out in the chopper," Seras stated as she slipped back into her disguised voice.

"Aye! Liquid, she's a spy or somethin'!" Octopus said walking up to his commander. "She might be with the Patr-..." He didn't get to finish before Liquid brushed past him, unnoticed.

"I don't need to be anymore, I sent both of those F-16s into the drink before they could even see the island." Liquid explained.

"Oh, well, uh...congratulations." _Two F-16s with a Hind-D, honestly? Give him a few kryptonite missiles and he could shoot down Superman with that kind of skill!_ Seras gulped and dared not take her eyes off the FOXHOUND Commander, who dismissed her accolades quickly.

"I need you to march on over to the Second Floor basement of the Warhead Storage Facility, I'm doubling the service detail for guarding Dr. Emmerich."

"Hey, Liquid! Amigo!" Octopus tried to interrupt. "She's. Not. One. Of. Us!" Octopus had still yet to realize what being dead meant.

"Who's that again sir?" Seras struggled to be as inconspicuous as possible and ignored her impostor to the best of her ability.

"Well I suppose he was a bit of a recluse before this mess," Liquid reasoned. "He's **only** the Chief Engineer for Metal Gear REX. If Snake rescues him, he'll put REX and our plans in jeopardy."

"Oh right," Seras answered, pretending to sound like it rang a bell. _Perfect, maybe he can tell me how to turn that robot into a scrap heap. That's at least one problem solved._

"Well what are you waiting for?" He sneered with annoyance. "Ocelot's failed to stop Snake, and he's in the infirmary now so we can stop him from bleeding out."

"What?!" Seras' elation was replaced with shock. "What happened sir?"

"It was that bloody ninja!" Liquid gestured the Police Girl to follow him to the elevator. "Bastard cut off his shooting hand."

_So that's how he lost his hand..._ She thought. "How's he doing?" She pretended to sound as concerned as possible.

"The operation was almost botched when he dropped his severed hand and let one of our medics bend over to pick it up..." Liquid said as he opened the elevator door for the Police Girl. "We put him in the cot furthest from Ocelot after the old man stuck his knife in his shoulder."

Recalling the elevator incident, Seras shuddered. How often did Ocelot need to suck from that inhaler to keep that from happening?

"You'd better hurry up," Liquid said a little more softly, but still commanding. "Raven is lining the canyon path to the storage facility with claymores. It'd be unfortunate if you lost a foot on your way there."

"Yes sir," Seras said as she ducked into the elevator, not taking her eyes off the blond commander.

"You know what," Octopus paced indignantly past the FOXHOUND leader. "Fuck you **and a half**, Liquid! You just let her run willy-nilly through this base, I'm keeping my eye on her. You can give me the cold shoulder while she turns this island into a glass crater!"

With a huff, the impostor marched into the elevator and... stood at Seras' side, indignated. Irritated as 'he' seemed, 'he' didn't look like 'he' was about to attack Seras.

A second after the elevator doors shut, the ghost broke the silence, considerably calmer than before.

"So..." 'he' muttered awkwardly. "How do you do it?"

"I told you, I don't know how my voice box works...like that," she concluded clumsily.

"Not your voice," Octopus corrected. "**These!**" Seras' mirror image cupped his...her...whatever's chest for emphasis, looking slightly less uncomfortable and more obviously curious, "How do you keep your spine from breaking with these monsters on your chest?!"

Seras blushed furiously under her mask, averting her gaze once more. It was one thing for a man to grope her chest. It was quite another to watch him turn into another you and do it to '**himself.'** She couldn't bring herself to answer, embarrassment beginning to give way to no small amount of annoyance.

"_Dios Mio_ this is uncomfortable," Octopus muttered. "It's not enough that I'm dead, but now there's this weird tingling where my _cajones_ ought to be!"

That remark put the real Seras' elbow several inches deep into the fake Seras' face. Having not yet realized ghosts could go intangible, OctoSeras felt the vampiric strength behind it and his specter flickered from the disruption in its spirit energy. The unwitting transwoman slumped to the elevator floor, down for the count.

_Why do I get stuck with all the crazy ones?_ Seras wondered woefully. _Hell, a soldier who I guess would be in reasonable shape got a heart attack, and now I'm stuck with him. It feels like a bad plot contrivance._ The Draculina pinched the bridge of her nose as the elevator ascended.

"I mean seriously, a heart attack?" She mumbled to no one in particular. "**What are the** **odds?**"

* * *

The ninja had long since run off after having a rather painful sounding spazz attack, leaving Snake time to recover from his battle with Ocelot and, more importantly, save the aged corporate suit slumped in front of the wall before him.

For a man who was half dead from one of Ocelot's interrogations, President Baker had provided a wealth of information pertinent to completing the mission. Thanks to him, Snake now knew the location and identity of Metal Gear's chief designer. While the methods for doing so were certainly unorthodox, he also knew the otherwise unlikely location of the Codec frequency for Colonel Campbell's niece, Meryl.

Hopefully she wouldn't be tempted to hose him with gunfire on sight like last time.

Unfortunately, Baker revealed he had long since given up his detonation code for arming REX. The terrorists could have turned the White House into a parking lot five minutes ago if they pleased.

There had also been some more irrelevant information mixed in. After all, informative as it was, irresponsible nuclear weapons and material storage didn't seem pertinent to stopping World War III. Not today anyway. It just felt like a badly tacked on anvilicious warning about how _eeeeeevil_ nukes were. He could get plenty of that from his weapons expert: Nastasha 'Nukes Are Bad' Romanenko.

"You've got to stop them!" Baker pleaded. "If it goes public, my...my company and I are...**are finished!**"

"What?" Snake was confused, as controversial as a nuclear death tank's existence in a post-Cold War world was, Baker's fears didn't mesh with the soldier's frame of reference. "Doesn't Metal Gear use currently existing technology?"

"Metal Gear itself does but..." Baker's explanation was cut off with a painful gasp. His eyes bulged in shock, and for a moment, he could only produce a series of strangled gasps.

But it wasn't until his hand—the one Ocelot hadn't broken during his interrogation—shot up to his chest and dug into it that Snake had realized what ailed the CEO.

"What..." the businessman wheezed. "...what did you **do to me**?!"

As if expecting an alien to burst forth from the man's chest, Snake rose to his feet in shock.

"No!...No, it can't be!" Even through the pain, the president sounded like he knew something more than he was letting on. "...Those **Pentagon bastards!** So they...they...they actually went and...**did it!**"

He tried to focus on his now failed rescuer, but his vision was already blurring and fading quickly.

"What are you talking about?!" The younger man managed to ask through the hostage's death throes.

"They...they're...just...using...you...for...**for**..." The only noise out of Baker's mouth after that was an incoherent cry. His hand then fell from his chest to his side as he slumped even further to the floor.

He twitched once, twice, blinked, and stopped moving.

"...What the hell?"

* * *

(To NinjaDude: Thanks for the review. We're glad you've been enjoying the story so far and hope you continue to. Not exactly sure what you mean by 'get together' in regards to Seras and Snake, but if you mean like romantic... we won't be doing that. Seras is in love with Pip in this fic and I doubt she's the cheating type. LoL Though you may have forgotten about Pip since he hasn't been present for awhile. But Seras is going to be meeting back up with him when she gets back to her proper place in time. Well, hope you continue to enjoy this anyway.)


	17. Myths and Legends

**Myths and Legends**

**AN:** This is the second of two chapters that were uploaded back to back. If you have not yet read chapter 16 (**Disaster of Disguise**), please do so before moving on to this one. Thanks.

Having dispatched the feral ghouls, Alucard and Seras continued through the museum. It wasn't long before they spotted a large, stone skull protruding from the museum's wall. Alucard, somewhat interested by the Gothic decoration that was larger than his entire body, headed towards it.

Several feet beneath the skull, rested a set of old doors, immediately above which an inscription was carved into the stone frame. "Underworld Journey," Alucard read then turned back to Seras. "Well, Police Girl, looks like we've found the place."

The 'Police Girl' of Alucard's time would've become nervous and stuttered at the sight of the giant skull and stone etching, which looked rather like the book cover to some Stephen King Novel. However, this Seras seemed unfazed by the ominous sight before her. "Well then, what are we waiting for?" The she-vamp asked, sounding a little impatient.

Alucard grinned, pleased by the girl's increased confidence. "Nothing… Nothing at all." The ancient vampire replied as he opened one of the doors and stepped through.

Upon entering Underworld, the two vampires were greeted by another of the strange, intelligent breed of ghouls.

"_Great, more Smooth Skins." _A semi-decomposed, walking corpse commented with a slight trace of sarcasm. "_I'm Winthrop, and it's my job to try to keep everything working in this old shit hole. You Smooth Skins haven't started shooting up the place… yet. So, can I assume you're not here looking for trouble?"_

"And if we are?" Alucard asked casually.

"_Well then, you might just get a little bit more than you're bargaining for. Cerberus and Charon are both heavy hitters, and the rest of us ain't exactly pushovers either."_ Winthrop replied as a green, multi-armed robot floated behind Alucard, flanking the ancient vampire.

"Indeed?" Alucard replied as his lip curled into a sadistic grin. Rather than the fear/respect Winthrop's threat was meant to provoke, the No-Life King seemed intrigued by the prospect of a massive battle against a city populated by intelligent ghouls who weren't 'pushovers' and had a couple of 'heavy hitters.' Conventional ghouls didn't provide much of a challenge, but ones who could still think, reason, and strategize… Well, it would be a novel battle if nothing else.

But Seras, recognizing the soft gleam that had formed in her master's eyes and not being too keen on the idea of taking part in the slaughter of an entire city of innocents (even if they were ghouls), stepped in front of her Master and tried to play diplomat. "No, we're not here looking for trouble… just some information. I've heard there's a ghoul who makes Ultrajet, and we're hoping someone here might know where we can find him."

"_A ghoul who makes Ultrajet, huh? Why you looking for him?" _The ghoul asked.

"We're hoping to score some."

"Funny, you two don't look like a couple of Chem addicts. Ultrajet's hardcore, you know? Not many smooth skins can handle it." Winthrop commented, sounding a little suspicious.

"It's not for us." Seras replied. "We're looking to acquire it for… a third party."

"_Ah, so some well to do SOB's hired you two to find him some Ultrajet, huh? Probably some sniveling, little, blue-blood elitist in Tenpenny Tower who's too 'good' to come down here and get his hand's dirty dealing with the likes of us. Well fine then, what do I care if he shoots up and goes all psycho? Maybe we'll get really lucky and he'll murder a few of those other bigots before Tenpenny's security force can put him down."_

The ghoul paused and let out a little, dark chuckle at the thought. After a moment, he continued, "_Yeah, the guy passed through here a few months back. Said his name was Murphy. He was looking to buy some supplies and hire a little muscle to… keep watch over his experiments. I don't know where he went after he left, but Tulip might. She runs the local shop, and she's the one who sold Murphy his test-tubes and stuff." _Winthrop paused and leaned in closer, his voice dropping to just barely above a whisper. "_I hear they got a little 'friendly' too… if you catch my meaning."_ The ghoul winked.

"You're making it kind of hard not to." Seras replied. "So, where's this Tulip?"

Winthrop pointed to a little side room behind him. "_Right in there, Smooth Skin." _And then the ghoul wandered off, mumbling something about repairs to the crummy water system.

The two vampires left Winthrop to his puttering and headed into Tulip's shop.

"_Oh, visitors? Welcome… please, make yourselves comfortable. You know we don't get too many strangers in here. How can I help you two."_ Tulip said. Even if her voice had the same 'death rattle' tone as all the other ghouls, there was a kind, perhaps even lonely, edged to it.

"We, ah… We were hoping you might be able to tell us where we can find Murphy." Seras replied.

"_Oh… May I ask why you're looking for him? He hasn't done anything wrong… has he?" _Tulip asked, sounding worried. Visitors didn't often come to Underworld. And when they did come, they were seldom looking for anyone in particular.

Seras opened her mouth to reply, but Alucard preempted her. "Not at all, Madam." The tall vampire answered in a soft, velvety tone as he removed his hat in a polite gesture. "But, we've heard the man makes Ultrajet, and we're here representing a party who's interested in purchasing some."

"_Oh… Oh, my… so polite. It's been ages since I've encountered a true gentleman." _The ghoul responded almost in awe. Proper manners had been the post-apocalyptic landscape's first casualty.

Alucard smiled; and for once, it wasn't the kind of smile that made the other person feel like a lamb standing in a lions' den.

Seras merely raised an eyebrow and wondered what had come over her master.

"_Of course, I'd be glad to help you. Dear Murphy could use the extra business anyway. He's set up shop a in an abandoned subway station, a little bit North of Arefu. Do you have a map?"_ Seras nodded and pulled one out of her pocket. She handed it over to the ghoul who took it and made a mark a little ways left of the center.

"_There you go, dearies, but do be careful_." Tulip leaned in and continued in a low whisper, "_A group of wasteland ghouls came here a few days ago... They claim to have seen the Puppet Man around that area." _She finished nervously, almost sounding like she was afraid that simply saying the words 'Puppet Man' might bring some horrible fate down upon her.

Alucard noticed Seras's eyes go wide at the mention of this… 'Puppet Man', and he decided to ask her about it later. But first, there was a protocol to maintain. "Thank you, Madam." The ancient vampire said as he bent down and kissed the top of the ghoul's rotting hand, acting as if it was a perfectly pristine woman's. Tulip let out a little giggle as the ancient vampire turned and left the shop, Seras trailing behind him.

Once out of Underworld and back in the museum's entranceway, Seras sped up her walking and came up alongside her old master. "Master, what… what was that?"

"What was what, Police Girl?"

"Th-That… that whole, suave, gentlemanly… thing."

"Oh that…" Alucard replied, his familiar, wolfish grin returning to his face. "Did you know that in my life I have bedded over fifteen hundred different women, nearly a thousand of whom were virgins before they met me?"

Seras's brow knit in confusion. "That's, um… 'nice', Master. But… but what does that have…"

"Do you think I could've charmed so many if I did not know how to be 'suave' and 'gentlemanly'?" Alucard asked before Seras could finish her sentence.

"No…" The former fledgling began slowly. "No, I suppose not. But… but why now, why her? I mean you… you couldn't possibly want to… to…"

Alucard broke into a chuckle. "No, no, of course not, but everyone has different weaknesses, and that was the quickest way to get the information we wanted from her. Sometimes… just occasionally, being a 'silver tongued devil' is more effective than a threatening, murdering one." Alucard paused and turned to Seras, fixing her with a coy grin as he continued, "Besides, I'm sure she would've tasted awful."

And Seras pictured another, not quite so civilized way her old master could've obtained the information he wanted. She turned a little green at the thought but was snapped back to reality as Alucard asked, "So, who's this 'Puppet Man' who you're so concerned about?"

At first Seras was stunned by the question. Everyone knew who the Puppet Man was. In the last two hundred years he'd become nearly as infamous as her old master had once been. It had never even crossed the former fledgling's mind that Alucard might not have heard the tale. But now that she stopped and thought about… there really was no reason he should've. After all, strictly speaking, it wasn't **her **master. It was his doppelganger from another place and time… indeed, another whole reality. Of course **he **wouldn't have heard the tale.

Seras sighed and then began to tell the story of the infamous… Puppet Man.

"Well, Master, it all started before the bombs fell, over two hundred years ago. The Vault-Tec company was commissioned by the U.S. government to build a series of one hundred and twenty-two public vaults which were to act as fallout shelters in case of a nuclear war… At least, that's what everyone was told. In reality, each of these vaults had its own, sinister purpose. Most were part of the largest psychological test ever devised. The plan was to put humans into some controlled and often absurd environments and see how they adapted to their surroundings.

"Some examples of the ridiculous things they experimented with are: Vault 29, where no one over the age of fifteen was allowed in; Vault 43, where they sealed up twenty men, ten woman… and one live panther; Vault 68, which housed one thousand men… and only one woman; Vault 69, that had the exact opposite ratio to Vault 68; Vault 70, where after six months, everyone's clothing supply would run out… The vault was populated mostly by Mormons…"

"Police Girl, please… the point?" Alucard interrupted, sounding rather put out by his former fledgling's rambling… though he was somewhat amused by the idea of a bunch of naked Mormons running around a sealed vault.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, Master. I'm afraid I got a little carried away." Seras blushed slightly before continuing, "But, perhaps the cruelest vault of all was Vault 77, where one man was sealed up with no company and nothing to occupy his time… save a crate filled with hand puppets.

"It's said that the man had a nervous breakdown when he discovered that he was all alone in the vault, that he beat on the reinforced steel door for months trying to get it open, stopping only to eat and sleep. Then he huddled down in a corner, curled up into a fetal position and just cried for days. Eventually, he tried to get on by himself, exploring the vault and doing his best to keep himself entertained.

"It wasn't until over a full year after his 'incarceration' began that he opened the crate of puppets. Then his already worn and frail psyche, demanding some form of company, blurred the line between fantasy and reality; and he came to believe that each of the puppets was a 'real' person. Everything was fine for a time… well as fine as could possibly be expected.

"But eventually one puppet, a representative of the Vault-Tec Corporation's, ever smiling, mascot, Vault Boy, 'went crazy' and killed the 'king' puppet. It was then that the last thread of the Puppet Man's sanity finally snapped. Convinced that the other puppets would try to 'avenge' the king's 'death' by not only going after the Vault Boy puppet but coming after him as an accomplice to the 'regicide', the Puppet Man fled from the vault… which had automatically unlocked one year and six months after he was first placed within it.

"The outside world had become a very harsh and unforgiving place, but the Puppet Man's sanity was so far gone that he hardly even noticed. A short time after emerging from his vault, the Puppet Man was captured by a couple of raiders. While they discussed whether it would be better to try to sell him as a slave or simply eat him, the crazed Puppet Man shouted warnings that his Vault Boy puppet was insane, had killed before and that his captors should let him go before it happened again. They, of course, paid no heed to his nonsensical ramblings; but that proved to be a mistake on their part.

"To this day, the actual details of the event are still unknown, but somehow, the Puppet Man freed himself and then slaughtered one of the raiders in a way so horrible that it made the other one panic and run back to the raiders' hide out.

"The Puppet Man followed the second raider, sneaking and keeping out of sight the whole time. Only after the raider had led him to the camp and the rest of the raider gang, did the Puppet Man make his appearance and engage the rest of the gang. Once again, the actual details are unknown; but, despite the Puppet Man being outnumbered and unarmed, save for his Vault Boy puppet, by sunset, he alone remained alive, standing over a hill covered in the dismembered bodies of the raider gang and his Vault Boy puppet stained with their blood.

"To some, the Puppet Man is a hero; others call him a psychotic killer. Perhaps he's both, and no one knows how he's still around after two hundred years. One legend says that because of the number of people he's killed, the Puppet Man has ceased to be a 'man' and become something else entirely, a dark, malevolent, bloodthirsty… immortal. Another claims that there has actually been a series of different 'Puppet Men' and that when each of them dies and another person, finding their Vault 77 jumpsuit, dons the outfit, the spirit of the first Puppet Man possesses them and drives them to continue in his insanity.

"But whether hero or monster, whether immortal or haunted jumpsuit, one thing is certain, for the last two hundred years, no phrase has struck both fear and awe into more people than the words, 'I saw the Puppet Man.'"

Seras finished her monologue in a dark, ominous voice; and, for the first time in his five hundred years, Alucard found himself suffering from… puppet envy.

* * *

The Count was resting in his Countess's arms for nearly an hour. But then, the call of his former master drew the vampire's attention away from his new one. 'Alucard' raised his head and looked off in the direction of Abraham's room. Then the vampire looked back at the lady knight who was still holding him. "The fool calls for me, Master." The vampire growled.

Integra looked up into the face of her servant. "Then you'd best go see what he wants. He needs to believe you're still bound to him."

"Yes, my master." The vampire replied as he rose from the floor and began to walk towards the wall.

When her servant was halfway through the wall, Integra called out after him. "Alucard?"

The vampire stopped and brought his head back into Integra's room. "Yes, Master?"

The knight paused before answering, "If you kill him… I'll never be born."

Alucard scowled for a moment, but then he lowered his head in understanding. "Yes, Master." And with that, the vampire disappeared through the wall. He became a phantom, passing through the wood and stone as easily as a human would a thick fog, and emerged from the wall of Abraham's room less than a second after departing Integra's.

"What took you so long?" The man asked curtly.

Inwardly Alucard seethed at the very sight of the man who'd forced him to kill his loyal followers, and the vampire's right hand formed into a tight fist as he thought of the horrible things he wanted to do now that he was free of that man's control. But then Alucard relaxed his hand again and hid his hatred behind a mask of servility. "I apologize, Master. I only just finished my last assignment, and it took some time for me to return." Alucard replied respectfully.

"Oh… and how did your mission go?"

"Very well, Master. I am pleased to report that the mission was a total success."

"Good." Abraham let out a grunt. "Now the Queen has a **real** mission for us. It seems that Old Jack's up to his tricks again. Find Integra, and tell her that the Queen wishes to speak with us."

Alucard bowed his head and dissolved through the floor. Thoughts of vengeance still swirled through the vampire's mind, but he realized that it was not the time for such indulgences. Sir Helsing must have someone to carry on his line first; the Count would not risk losing his Countess. However, he would have his revenge. As soon as Abraham's first child was pulled from its mother's womb and the continuation of the line was assured, then… then the vampire would have his revenge; and it would neither be merciful, nor swift.

Alucard's shapeless form reveled in the very thought of it. For every year he was forced to wait, he would tack on another hour to how long his former master would suffer before being granted death's sweet release. Had the mist that passed through the building's walls still possessed lips, it would've grinned psychotically. Had it possessed a mouth or vocal cords, it would've chuckled darkly; but as it was, it just quietly continued on to its true Master's room.

Integra had just gotten back under the covers when an unearthly mist gathered above her bed. It pulled in on itself, condensing into the form of her servant. He hovered over her and grinned down at the knight.

Most women would've been unnerved, but Integra merely sighed. _Bloody Hell, I'm not going to be able to get any sleep tonight, am I? _The knight thought.

_Why, Master… are you inviting me in for a little 'fun'? _The vampire's half-teasing voice echoed through his master's skull.

Integra's eyes narrowed as she remembered that, now that Alucard was bound to **her**, she'd have to start watching her thoughts more carefully again. "No, Vampire… That **was not **an invitation." The knight growled back. "It was a sleep deprived cry to be left alone."

Unfazed by Integra's annoyed response, perhaps even enjoying it to an extent, Alucard continued to grin down at her. "Do not blame me, Master." The vampire replied. "It is your queen who demands a meeting."

Integra sighed again. "Fine," she pulled the covers away from her. "Tell the Queen that I'm on my way."

"Yes, Master." The vampire replied as his form slowly dissolved away; and the knight got out of bed and went over to the closet to retrieve something more appropriate than the bed robe she was wearing.

"Was there something else?" Integra questioned in a low and slightly threatening tone, still sensing Alucard's presence lingering in her bed chamber, despite the fact that his physical form was gone.

_No… Nothing that can't wait, Master, _the vampire cryptically cooed in the knight's mind as he completely vacated her room. Being nearly immortal, the Count had learned how to be patient for the things he wanted most.

Integra got changed and then headed to the same room that they'd been directed to for their last audience with the Queen. The knight arrived to find that the meeting had started without her. _Couldn't wait five bloody minutes? _The knight thought bitterly as she stifled a huff. **Her** **queen** would've waited.

Integra sighed, wondering if she'd ever get home and back to the more familiar relationships that she'd spent a lifetime building. But then she pushed such thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on the present that was her past. The knight walked over and took a seat beside her ancestor and across from **his queen**.

"… her throat was slashed, her stomach cut open, her face mutilated and, furthermore, a number of her internal organs were removed. All of these things parallel the Whitechapel murders attributed to the serial killer known as Jack the Ripper. Naturally the police are concerned that the Ripper may have resurfaced; and since they were so ineffective at catching him last time, I've decided to have you run your own investigation. You will be given access to the murder scene and all relevant police records. However, you are not to have any interaction with the police investigating this murder. I want you to conduct a completely separate investigation, is that understood?" The Queen said.

"You suspect a leak in the department?"

"The man has committed at least five, possibly as many as eighteen, brutal killings; and he's still out there. At this point, I suspect everything… including that the killer may not be quite… 'human,' which is why I'm giving limited approval to your proposal and assigning this as your first case."

"Limited approval?" Integra questioned.

"Bring me the Ripper, girl; and I'll insure that you get all the funding and resources you need for your organization." The Queen answered with a smile. "However, should you fail, this experiment of yours ends with the first assignment."

Integra bowed her head respectfully. "Yes, Your Majesty, I understand. We will not fail you."

"Good." The Queen replied. "I've sent messengers ahead of you. There's a train waiting to take you to London… I'd recommend you leave immediately."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Abraham replied as he rose from his seat.

All things considered it didn't take the trio long to reach the station house, and the train that awaited them was a rather luxurious model. Integra even got her own private, if small, room in the train.

The knight smiled as she caught sight of the bed. Then she dropped her bags onto the floor and, without even bothering to change back into sleeping attire, plopped herself down on the slightly hard mattress. She didn't seem to care that it was a little stiff, though. She just let out a little sigh of contentment and closed her eyes. The sun was just starting to rise as the knight was rocked to sleep by the train's movement.

The mirror in Integra's room filled with an inky blackness, from which a somewhat distorted face emerged. _Already sleeping like a creature of the night, huh, Master?_ It thought proudly as it smiled at the beautiful knight. _Good. Sleep well, Master. I can wait... If I have to, I can wait a long time. _

And with that mental declaration, the shadowy face vanished away.

* * *

(We hope you enjoyed the new chapters. Please drop us a review and let us know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T. R0bot.)


	18. Ominous Signs

**Ominous Signs**

"...and how did a uniform that thin flatten you that much?" asked Seras-but-not-Seras as 'she' and the false soldier exited the airlock.

Octopus had recovered surprisingly quickly from Seras' elbow to the face, and it showed as 'he' rambled and rambled and rambled at the annoyed vampire. Seras would have attempted to banish him...her...it, were it not for the scene it would have made.

First she had to traverse the tank hangar. Octopus hadn't followed her at first and Seras was content with the possibility that Octopus had wisely decided to keep 'his' distance.

The vampire had reached the end of the deserted canyon separating the garage from the Nuclear Warhead Storage warehouse by the time Seras' own Mexican accented voice had found its way back into her ears. That empty space (well, there was a tank waiting near the entrance with Raven's scent all over it, but still...) had been her last opportunity to get the ghost out of her unlife without drawing unwanted attention to herself.

The first floor of the warehouse had been stockpiled with nuclear warheads in varied states of dismantlement. Seras didn't want to think of what her or her doppelganger's antics would have caused if their roughhousing had got one of those warheads involved. Even if her vampiric healing and quasi-immortality protected her from radiation, she doubted Integra would want a glow-in-the-dark vampire in her mansion giving everyone cancer.

She _could_ have dealt with him in the elevator had three other soldiers not joined them on the ride down. Octopus could simply phase out of the elevator car if Seras so much as hinted that she was going to make a ruckus (though Seras wondered if he...or she...knew if he...or she...could do that yet).

She was able to convince the soldiers to go on without her and move through the Second floor basement hallway. This would ensure the safety of her identity (apart from that woman in the jail cell and Sniper Wolf, she hadn't seen or heard any other women on the island, and the men had to take off their balaclavas to put on their gas masks, as the hallway beyond was filled with poison gas) and give her some time to get a grip on and banish Octopus, but alas, her impostor was too smart for that. The FOXHOUND operative simply followed the other three into the gas-filled hallway as soon as the electrified floor was shut down.

She was thus resigned to let "herself" nag her as she moved on.

"...I mean..." OctoSeras hissed. "...are you _always_ a woman? I mean, FOXHOUND gives special attention to possible recruits like that. I mean, look at me. I'm not a woman very often, but as you can see, I can be one if I want to." 'He' seemed quite oblivious to Seras' increasingly vain attempts to ignore him.

"Let's just say I thought I was a freak until I met you FOXHOUND people..." Seras mumbled. "...Given what I read about you guys, my self-esteem has shot through the roof."

"If you think we're a sad bunch now..." Octopus mumbled. "...Wait until you hear my friends monologue."

At this point, Seras and Octopus had stepped into a short, L-shaped corridor, crammed with seven other soldiers.

"Sir," the man nearest to her walked up. "The commander says it's your turn to watch Emmerich," he used his rifle to gesture down the hall.

"I got that impression," Seras replied as she filed past the other soldiers and turned the corner. A single door lay against the right wall.

A soldier emerged pinching the bridge of his noise.

"...I haven't seen a bigger geek since I dropped out of High School" the faceless goon moaned before noticing Seras. "Here," he said digging through his pockets and producing a bottle of Aspirin. "You'll need it."

"Uh..." She intoned that sound for the umpteenth time that day. "Thanks...I suppose," she answered as she pocketed the bottle.

"Stupid Japanime fanboys, driving me up the wall..." he muttered as he moved on. "What's with anime anyway, those characters with the big eyes, mouths the only part of them that seem to move most of the time, it's just lame, if I end up in an anime, please kill me!"

Seras didn't have the slightest idea why she felt offended, so she held her tongue as the soldier moved on.

"Take his word for it," Octopus warned. "I met the guy. He's nice, but he has the social grace of a brick wall."

Seras once again ignored the ghost and crossed through the door into the large room beyond.

The place was a large computer lab. Along the left wall, straight ahead, was a windowed cubicle housing several mainframe computers. The wall at the other end of the room was covered in computer consoles from left to right. Two lengthy "island" style desks filled the middle of the room, and the far wall from where she had entered carried book cases and magazine racks.

What stuck out for her, however, was the room's sole occupant: a man with his back turned to her.

The first detail Seras took in was his black but graying hair. She thought she was dealing with the elderly, but at the sound of her footsteps, the man turned around and showed her a face belonging to someone in his mid-twenties. He wore a white jacket over a green t-shirt and blue jeans, and his face had a week's worth of unshaven stubble.

...But Seras froze when she noticed something terrible, something horrifying. Something that shouted from the rooftops just how unspeakably monstrous this stick of a man truly was...

_...He's wearing glasses! Holy crap!_

Seras averted her gaze in mortal terror at once. Ever since she 'joined' Hellsing, everyone she met who wore glasses varied from 'stern and impatient' to 'monstrously sociopathic.' Sure, there was The Sorrow very recently, but anyone who wore all black, fought in World War II (primarily on the especially brutal Eastern Front due to his Russian-ness) and specialized in talking with ghosts who likely died _very_ violently was entitled to be a little creepy, emphasis on 'a little.'

Seras had no idea who this doctor she was dealing with was, but if he was the Chief Engineer for Metal Gear REX, that was likely a bad sign about his state of mind.

_What have you got yourself into Seras? _It was a pointless question that she'd had many opportunities to ask herself. Now here she was with a complete stranger, alone except for a Mexicanized clone of herself, and just wishing she could wake up and have Pip ask her what the deal was with 'all that mumbling' in her sleep.

"Uh, excuse me..."

Seras reacted the only way someone under that pressure could.

_**Five seconds later...**_

Dr. Hal Emmerich could not for the life of him figure out what just happened. Already dealing with being under the constant guard of traitorous soldiers and being locked in his lab for the last two days, he had found himself only more bemused by his newest 'babysitter.' When he turned to face him, he looked away immediately. Sure, Hal was used to being ignored, and the soldiers were likely advised to avoid interacting with him as much as possible to prevent the onset of Lima Syndrome...

...But it hadn't been until the engineer opened his mouth that he realized that his new guard had darted to the other end of the room and locked himself in a locker...**his** locker; the locker where he kept all of his stealth suit prototypes. The guards had locked it rather than take anything out, but without using a key, this soldier practically snapped it open, and then back shut like it was made of paper.

Hal approached the locker, still trying to rationalize just what he had seen. It was **his** place to be terrorized by those Genome Army goons, not the other way around. He stared through the slits of the locker, trying to see if the person inside was keeping his eye on him.

His inquiry was a wary one.

"Um...was it something I said?"

There was a moment of silence before the soldier inside answered.

"Uh...sorry, I just thought I saw the enemy in this locker and I'd...tackle him...that's right." Hal was nonplussed. The soldier seemed more timid than he himself usually was in the presence of others.

"It...doesn't sound like there's anyone else in there with you," an obvious observation, but the scientist felt obliged to voice it. "I think you can come out n-."

"Sod off, Octopus," Hal heard the soldier hiss. He couldn't help but raise his eyebrow. "I'm sorry, you were saying?" The soldier asked louder.

"Uh..." Hal Uh'd for the third time in that conversation. "What I'm saying is the other guards might get suspicious if they come in here and see one of their own missing."

The soldier seemed adamant about staying where he was. "...Well, how do you 'see' if someone's missing?"

"Look, just please come out of the locker." He asked politely, albeit with the faintest trace of annoyance.

"...Do you promise not to gut me alive, eat my remains and write some incoherent Lovecraftian nonsense on the wall with my blood?"

"...**What?**"

"That answer works for me," the soldier said a little more cheerfully.

The locker slowly slid open as Seras peaked out at her charge. Now that she had realized what an idiot she had been, the Police girl noticed the man was quite harmless and, judging by the rather quiet manner he spoke, easily intimidated.

"Look, I suppose we got off on the wrong foot...I think." mumbled the scientist. "Your superiors probably already told you about me, but you seem alright." He slowly offered a hand. "I'm Dr. Hal Emmerich. I'm in charge of the REX project. How about you?"

"Oh, nice to meet you doctor." Seras reluctantly raised her own hand and shook it. "I suppose I was a little stupid, but you know us, stupid American boys signing up for the Army because we dropped out of High School...because we're stupid...uh, anyway, my name is..."

Seras trailed off when she realized she needed an alias.

"Uh..." Seras once again brought her attention to the scientist's glasses. "See..."

She noticed a tiny speck of rust glancing back to her hiding place's interior.

"...Rus..." she trailed off.

Without warning, something fell out of the doctor's jacket and onto the floor. They both looked down and Hal bent over to retrieve it.

"Huh, I don't remember having this on me..." he muttered while standing back up before Seras noticed it was a travel brochure. The front cover advertised the natural wonders of Africa. The most prominent was a series of waterfalls known as...

"Victoria!" She shouted, abruptly bringing the doctor's attention back to her. "Seerus Victoria!"

...

...

...

"...Bloody hell!"

"That...doesn't sound like a man's name." The doctor observed. "And I don't know any Americans that say 'bloody' that way."

"I, uh..." Seras formulated any potential lies she could find. "...Spend a lot of time with Liquid, sir."

"Sir?" The scientist queried with a friendly chuckle. "Okay, now I **know** something's weird. No one around here called me sir even before this mess."

Seras knew she had been caught, and weighed her options accordingly. The scientist wouldn't just be informative for stopping Metal Gear, but he was also **friendly.** Maybe he'd be more open to questioning if she had just been a little more 'honest' with him.

"...Okay, you got me." Seras cleared her throat, trying to see if she could 'reset' her voice to its normal setting. "...I'm not from around here."

The engineer raised his eyebrow as Seras pulled off her mask and let her relatively short but bushy hair fall into her face.

"Wait, you're a..." Hal trailed off for the umpteenth time in that conversation. "...How'd you do that...with your voice I mean?"

_This again? Damn! I can't just go around telling everyone I'm a bloodsucking fiend of the night! Uh..._

Lady Luck had happened to take pity on Seras, however, as the scientist quickly voiced his own speculations.

"Is it nanomachines?"

"What?"

"You can do more and more with them all the time," the engineer explained. "Stimulating muscles, regulating bodily functions under stress, the new Codec system..." The nerd listed them off. "...I didn't think they already came up with something as advanced as non-invasive voice modulation, did they?"

Seizing the opportunity, Seras lied. "Yeah, I could put a lot of voice actors out of business with these things."

The man gave no immediate indication that he believed her. Instead, he glanced back to the exit before returning his sights to the Draculina.

"I'd put that mask back on if I were you, wouldn't want anyone to see you like that."

"Well," Seras replied with an amused smirk before following the scientist's advice. "...I suppose I don't want anyone to go around thinking I'm undergoing gender reassignment surgery."

The scientist was about to chuckle, albeit uncomfortably, before his new companion jumped as if mildly jabbed. He could have sworn she seemed to be looking...no, **glaring** at something to her right before swatting at the thin air in that direction.

"What was that all about?" He asked.

"Rare Alaskan bees...they sting like crazy." She grumbled her answer.

"Rare Alaskan..." Hal blinked. "I'm sorry, bees, in this part of the world, in this weather?"

"Yeah," she grumbled before noticing a strange look in the scientist's eyes.

"Geez! I've practically lived at this base for the last two years working on the REX project, and this is the first I've heard of it!" The scientist remarked. "Thanks for the warning, I'll be careful."

Seras' worry returned when she realized Dr. Emmerich's answer came without a hint of sarcasm.

* * *

It took a couple of hours before Alucard and Seras began to draw close to their destination. On the way, the pair encountered a few other 'wastelanders', and most didn't bother them. They also ran into a couple of packs of raiders... who **did** bother them. But the raiders were hardly a threat to two experienced vampires, and they went down quickly.

One raider used a strange, gas driven 'gun' that had apparently been designed to fire railroad spikes; and that man provided some meager entertainment to the No-Life King. The spikes were made out of iron, a metal that had been used to hunt vampires in ancient times. It was fairly effective too, not quite as effective as silver and certainly not as effective as blessed silver, of course... but effective none the less. And, the iron in the spikes, together with the fact that the spikes themselves were basically metal 'stakes', added a little fun to what Alucard otherwise considered a pretty boring fight.

And when the fight was over and the raider laid marinating in a pool of his own blood, Alucard decided to keep the man's weapon. It was vastly inferior to his Jackal and Casull. However the raider had been carrying a good amount of ammo for the weapon, and Alucard was beginning to run low on his own, custom rounds. So the No-Life King slung the bizarre contraption across his back and continued on with his former fledgling.

A little ways from where the second group of raiders tried to jump them, Alucard and Seras came upon a man in tattered clothes that just barely had enough cohesion to preserve his modesty. The man looked up as the two vampires passed by him, most likely feeling the slight vibration of their footsteps. "W-Water," the man called out in a quiet, raspy and dry voice. "Please, w-water?"

Alucard cast a quick look over at the man. The vampire's face held no trace of compassion or mercy, if anything he looked disgusted. Letting out a slight huff, the No-Life King turned back and began to continue on. However, before he could take another ten steps, Alucard herd the man rasp out a grateful sounding 'thank you'. And turning back, the master vampire found that his former fledgling had gone over to the man and given him a bottle of purified water.

Alucard stopped. He stayed off to the side and watched the scene, a peculiar mixture of disappointment and... something akin to longing building up inside him. Despite well over two centuries as a vampire, the Police Girl still felt compassion for the weak. She was still in touch with her empathic 'human' nature. And that surprised, annoyed and... strangely enough, pleased her old master.

The man felt so grateful to Seras that he was compelled to issue her a warning. "If you pick up a distress signal from a guy called Wernher, don't listen to it. He sucks you in with a sob story about freeing a whole town of slaves, but once you get there..." The man's voice trailed off for a moment and his face scrunched up as if the memory caused him physical pain.

"It's a horrible place. And... And I don't mean horrible like the Wasteland. It's... It's haunted, or possessed by some form of dark, arcane magic or something. Gates change what they're made of, steel, ice, wood; it all depends on where you're standing. Buildings just disappear. I don't mean that sections of them have been blown away. I mean that they literally just disappear; spotlights and roofs, float on nothing but thin air! And the exclamation points!" The man groaned, and his eyes held a look of absolute terror. "Red boxes of exclamation points... everywhere!!! I... I just barely managed to escape. Stay away from Wernher," the man instructed then latched onto Seras's arm with a surprising amount of strength given his condition. "Stay away from Wernher," the man repeated, his voice laced with an urgent edge.

Alucard took a few steps towards the pair. The beggar seemed to be getting crazier by the second; and the No-Life King wanted to insure that, should the man try anything dangerous, he could reach his former fledgling.

But Seras just patted the top of the man's dirty hair in a comforting manner. "Yes, stay away from Wernher. I understand, and thanks for the warning." She smiled down at the man, and he released her arm and relaxed back into the sandy ground.

Seras gave the man another water bottle and a few rounds of .32 ammo, for the hunting rifle that laid a few feet away. And then she and her old master continued towards Arefu.

When they eventually reached the 'settlement', they were greeted by a small explosion to their left. Alucard quickly unslung the steam driven rifle from his back and took aim, and Seras readied her Chinese assault rifle.

But before either of them opened fire, the only man in sight began to apologize profusely. And although Alucard would've liked to have used his new toy to pin the man's head to the wall of the shack behind him, the vampire recognized that doing so would spoil his best shot at further directions to Murphy's lab. So the No-Life King reeled in his killer instincts and begrudgingly accepted the idiot's apology.

Seras then asked the idiot, who she quickly discovered was the settlement's self proclaimed 'sheriff', if he could mark the nearby subway stations on her map. The sheriff said that he'd be glad to, but first he wanted them to do him a favor. The settlement had apparently been attacked earlier, and he wanted his two 'guests' to go check on the rest of its citizens.

Alucard glared threateningly at the man; but Seras didn't want to see the idiot get himself killed just for being... well, an idiot. So she quickly agreed to check on the other residents. "It won't take long, Master, and then he'll mark where the subway stations are. It'll save time in the long run... really," Seras said.

Alucard shook his head, but he had to agree that just checking on the people in the four shacks would be quicker than wandering around, looking for the subway stations. "Alright, Police Girl, go and see how the other... 'Arefuians' are," the No-Life King replied while he relaxed against the side of one of the shacks. "But be quick about it."

Seras nodded in understanding then went about checking on the people in the 'houses'. At first everyone seemed fine, if a bit shaken up. However, when the former fledgling reached the last house, things took a sharp left turn.

Seras knocked, but there was no answer. She waited and knocked again, but there was still no answer. And after her third knock received the same silence as the preceding two, the former fledgling decided that it was time for etiquette to take a back seat. She forced the door open and was briefly taken back.

Two dead bodies were sprawled out on the floor. Blood was everywhere, on the floor, the walls, soaking into the mattresses, everywhere; but the most ominous scene was where the perpetrators had used a portion of the red liquid to write "The Family" on one of the walls. The 'Police Girl' in Seras thought that the writing was most likely a gang's attempt to claim credit for the horror. But the worst shock was yet to come, for as she knelt down to examine the bodies, she discovered small holes in their necks. Realizing what had caused the puncture wounds, Seras's eyes went wide.

Vampire's had always been a rarity in America; and after the bombs fell, Seras had never encountered another one again. However, the wounds matched vampire fangs precisely, even down to the depth of insertion, and the crime scene fit the pattern of a 'freak' attack as well.

And to Seras it seemed undeniable that in addition to the Wastelands other problems... super mutants, feral ghouls, mutated wildlife, cannibals, slavers and raiders; a pack of blood sucking vampires had taken up residence. A determined look came over Seras's face. She would not allow it. The Wasteland had enough problems already. She would not let 'freaks' move in and ruin more lives. The former fledgling knew how to kill vampires; heck, years of service in the Hellsing organization had made her an expert at it.

Seras stood up. Her hands clenched into tight fists, and she stared at the red lettering again. Whoever this 'Family' was, she would find them... and end them.

* * *

Integra sat behind a desk in her hotel room. The knight was busy pouring over police reports, suspect lists, and even the opinions of a couple of police surgeons who'd studied the victims' remains. She had yet to make any progress in determining what was really going on in the Ripper's head. In fact, the knight wasn't even completely convinced that there was **a **Jack the Ripper at all.

Oh, there was no denying that the victims had been killed and mutilated by someone. After all, women did not kill and then gut themselves. But the degree of mutilation varied so much that Integra wondered if, perhaps, there was no single 'Jack the Ripper', and the gruesome murders had been committed by a number of different men.

Jack's victims ranged from postmortem amputees to women who'd had their genitals and other organs removed, to others who'd simply had their throats slashed open. Now there was nothing strange about a killer becoming more violent with each murder; but in Jack's case, the brutality didn't follow a direct path of escalation. Some of his earlier victims were mutilated worse than his later ones, and in other cases it was the exact opposite.

Heck, even the cops, who'd been investigating the murders for a decade, didn't believe that they all could've been committed by the same man. The one bit of good news was that out of the eighteen **possible** Ripper killings, most investigators were able to agree on at least five of them being perpetrated by the same man. That should've helped Integra narrow the field, but even those five didn't fit any psychological pattern she was familiar with.

Mary Ann Nichols, the Ripper's first victim, had her throat severed by two deep cuts, and her lower abdomen was torn open.

Annie Chapman, the Ripper's second victim, was killed and mutilated in nearly an identical way to the first, save Jack had also removed the latter's uterus.

However the third victim, Elizabeth Stride, had suffered no wounds at all to her abdomen. And the fourth victim, who was killed on the same day as the third, not only had her abdomen cut open and part of her uterus removed; but she was missing a kidney too.

Finally, although the last victim suffered the worst mutilations out of all of the 'canonical' five, her body was found lying in her own bed! Every other victim's was found out in a street or other public place. Why was Mary Jane Kelly in her own bed? It just didn't make sense!

Integra let out a frustrated groan and dropped her head down unto the desk. She'd been combing through the reports for hours, and she needed a rest. The knight sighed, and then she felt a pleasant pressure on her shoulders.

Integra was so worn out that for the briefest of moments she didn't even think about what was causing the pleasant pressure. Instead she just let out a soft moan. But then the knight heard a little chuckle and her eyes narrowed.

She bolted upright and quickly whipped her head around to glare at her servant. "What are you doing here?" Integra asked, her tone laced with venom.

"I believe it's called a massage," the vampire casually replied, sounding as if inviting himself into his master's hotel room and giving her a massage was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

"Funny, I don't recall giving you permission to touch me," Integra responded, her tone somewhere between challenging and annoyed.

"True, Master," the monster consented. But then his lips curled into a smug grin, and he leaned in close to her ear. "But you haven't told me to stop either," the vampire whispered in a velvety voice.

And his master suddenly realized that: no, she hadn't. Even after realizing that he was massaging her shoulders and neck and calling him on the breach of protocol, she hadn't ordered him to stop. The knight's eyes widened; but still she didn't tell her servant to stop.

"Relax, Master. You're so tense," Alucard continued and increased the pressure slightly.

Integra let out another little moan and felt a slight tingling sensation spread from where her servant's hands continued to work on her. "If... If this is some kind of attempt to seduce me, you're going to be disappointed," the knight managed to inform, though her voice lacked most of its usual, naturally authoritative edge.

"Oh, Master, so suspicious," the vampire replied and let out another chuckle. "I'm just trying to help," he continued, in a mock hurt tone.

"Y-yeah, but help whom?" Integra asked as she bent her head to one side in an unspoken invitation for her servant to rub higher on her neck.

Alucard laughed. "Oh, come now, Master. Don't try to act like you're not enjoying this... or like it isn't helping to ease your tension."

"It... is helping," Integra finally admitted. "But, next time, ask my permission **first**," she continued.

"Very well, Master. As you wish," the vampire replied as he continued his massage, and Integra relaxed her body into her servant's strong grip.

(Well, we hope you enjoyed the eighteenth chapter. Please review and let us know what you though. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	19. Killing Time

**Killing Time**

Seras had taken a seat at the work 'islands' in the center of the room. Hal had chosen to pace back and forth next to the wall by the entrance as they conversed, thoughtfully stroking his chin. While Seras herself remained roughly engaged in conversation with the young (though prematurely graying) doctor, she had taken time to notice a few details that stuck out in the otherwise bland computer lab.

The lengthy desk they were sitting at was surprisingly sparsely populated, save for a television set with a Sony Playstation and a Nintendo GameCube sitting on either side of it. She had noticed the scientist's modest video game collection, which consisted mainly of JRPGs, including Final Fantasy Anthology, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII, Final Fantasy IX, Chrono Trigger, and Star Ocean: The Second Story. The GameCube also had the title Tales of Symphonia to its name. While Seras hadn't been much of a gamer since her mid teens, she felt like she'd be more than happy to give one of them a try were it not for the situation at hand.

The man's tastes were similarly reflected in his choice of animation as well. Several DVDs worth of anime also shared shelves with his games. Most of them seemed to be of the Sci-Fi variety, particularly standing out were titles like Gundam Wing, Neon Genesis Evangelion, and something relatively 'new' looking: Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex. The scientist had let her sift through the material as they conversed, and it became increasingly clear just what inspired him to get into robotics.

The wall overlooking the computer stations at the opposite of the entrance was occupied by a poster for a PC game Seras had never heard of before: Policenauts. The poster in question was occupied by five men in spacesuits lined up in a black background in an older looking but distinctly Japanese art style.

To top off this shrine to nerdity, sitting atop a nearby computer monitor were two palm-sized figurines of Mario and Yoshi.

"...and I've been working on this project since then," he concluded.

Seras scratched the back of her head, taking Hal's information in. After graduating out of MIT at an unusually young age and doing some work for the FBI's Engineering Research Facility (the details of the latter occurrence he had not wanted to go into), the engineer had jumped at the offer to design America's first bipedal robot: Metal Gear REX.

Sure, the doctor was friendly, no doubt about that. It's just Seras couldn't wrap her mind around the idea that **he** built that nuclear death machine.

"Are there any other scientists who still might be on base?" Seras felt like she would need the second opinion. Something seemed...off with the scientist's story. Nothing sinister, just...off.

"Not really, shortly before they brought in the railgun, they sent away most of the scientist and technicians. Baker wouldn't even let me supervise the final assembly." Hal punctuated his statement with a stroke of his chin. "I'm not sure what all the secrecy is for though, or why the terrorists want it so bad."

"Are you kidding?" Seras left it at that. He **should** have been kidding. What terrorist **wouldn't** want a weapon of REX's power?

"It's a mobile TMD, what good will it do them?"

"TMD?" Seras hadn't heard that acronym before.

"Theater Missile Defense," he answered. "REX was designed as a means of tracking and shooting down nuclear missiles. The railgun it uses for that was taken from designs from the Reagan era SDI programs, and frankly, I doubt the government would want to fire a nuke at an island that's already full to bursting with them." He turned to look Seras in the eyes again. "You seem to have been with the terrorists for a while, any ideas?"

After what the doctor had told her, Seras wasn't sure she **did** have an idea. Either the terrorists were grossly misinformed about REX's purpose and were just bluffing the White House, who, having had someone oversee this project, **should** know better...

...Or the MIT graduate she was talking to was a **complete idiot**.

The nearly forgotten Octopus shared her sentiments with a girlish chuckle. "...And this is why nerds like him **need** to stay in their parents' basements."

That won 'her' a sidelong glare from the real Seras.

"Is something wrong?" Hal sounded quite concerned.

Seras' attention to Octopus was short lived, but her glare remained, even if it wasn't specifically directed at her new scientist companion.

"What's wrong?"

"Missile **Defense**," She parroted. "...are you sure?"

"That's what the president told me," he said taken slightly aback by the urgent shift in her tone. "...What else could it be?"

Seras' last guess was right...

...Dr. Hal Emmerich was the most gullible moron in the world.

"Well..." she paused to sigh. "...I think there's something you need to know about REX."

"Something I need to know? Are you sure?" His questions weren't annoyed, but worried. He may have been the chief designer of the robot, but he had been curious why some parts of the machine were being designed by separate contractors.

However, as soon as Seras opened her mouth, the unmistakable rattling of assault rifle fire echoed from the hallway outside.

_What the?_ She thought as she leapt to her feet. Hal nearly fell against the wall, not as used to such shocks as the vampire. Seras raised her assault rifle and made her way to the door.

"What are you doing?!" The startled scientist asked suddenly. With the noise going on outside, being left alone didn't seem very appealing.

"My duty, wait here!" She ordered. She didn't think she sounded that stern, but the scientist almost seemed cowed by her benign order. It was like any remote forcefulness put him in his place.

Still, Seras had no time to apologize. If that was "Snake" in the next hallway, he would likely need help.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?!" Shouted Octopus as Seras ran out the door. The genderbent shapeshifter started after her once the door closed...

...but then a new 'friend' phased through the wall next to the cowardly engineer.

"Well, well, well..." hissed a shark-toothed, tattooed muscle-woman through a prideful smile. "...Trying to wring a scientist out for how to wreck ze Major's grand new show? I must say, I'm disappointed in you little bloodzucker."

Octopus froze when he realized the woman was addressing him. "Come again?"

"Now, now fraulein, don't play dumb. You ruined ze fun for us vunce, you zhall not again." A scythe materialized in the newcomer's beefy hand.

"Um," Octopus began to quake visibly in 'his' books. "Look, I think you've mistaken me for someone else, Mister...?"

"...**Ze only mistake!**" Her smile vanished with the growl of her next words. "...**Vas not letting zese events run zheir course!**" She gripped her scythe, ready to swing it at a moment's notice.

"Uh, oh, _Mierda_" Octopus gulped...before apparently suddenly doubling over in pain, wrapping 'his' hands around 'his' stomach. The abruptness gave even Zorin some pause.

"I think I'm gonna be..." with 'his' face out of Zorin's line of sight, Octopus' pained grimace turned into a fanged smirk. "...**sick!**"

As soon as that last word passed through 'his' lips, the Master of Disguise pulled himself back to a standing position (no easy task, having underestimated just how much his new chest would weigh him down) before his cheeks began to balloon. Zorin had thought her killer was about to vomit, but instead...

...With a gagging retch, Zorin found herself blinded by a cloud of black, inky mist. She could hear rapid footsteps of the Police Girl beating a retreat, but the stinging sensation of this new 'ink' left her stunned.

By the time she regained her vision, however, the sight of what had stepped through the door gave her something far more interesting than immediate revenge.

* * *

Two confused soldiers greeted Seras' vision as she exited. Both had their guns raised, but no one to point them at. She could see one soldier in the corner of the L-shaped hallway firing down the corridor, but no clue what he was firing at.

Running up to the turn in the corridor, Seras peaked around to see a dead soldier slumped against the exit door in a pool of fresh blood. Four other soldiers were spread along the hall, filling the air with bullets at an unseen foe.

There was a flicker of movement before the one at the furthest end of the hall was suddenly smashed into the wall as quickly as she could blink. Another soldier, then a third one and a forth followed his lead in a bloody, crushed end. She ducked behind the wall and just hoped a new specter hadn't joined the fray.

Looking to her rifle, she remembered an important lesson about such uncertainties. When in doubt, 'spray and pray.'

She rushed to the aid of another soldier, who had aimed his gun to a nearby wall. She froze for a split second, noticing a fifth soldier was being slammed repeatedly into the wall. Hoping that she'd hit something, she took aimed and pressed the trigger down, trying to hose the invisible adversary with bullets.

Both soldiers were rewarded when the force flung their ally's corpse at them. Seras was simply knocked over, but her companion was hit so hard, the flying corpse broke his neck.

Seras managed to pull herself into a sitting position just in time to see her antagonist appear before her eyes in a flash of lightning. In a crouch was none other than the foe she had fought back at the power relay when she first arrived.

...That **ninja**.

Seras struggled to get back to her feet, but as she rose, the ninja did a(n entirely unnecessary) backflip while she managed to get back into a standing position. As soon as he landed, however, he swept out a leg and caught both her feet, flipping her into a horizontal position in midair.

And in a swift, clean movement, the ninja crouched and brought his sword upward to finish her.

Seras felt a sharp pain, followed by a curious numbness as the ninja's sword flung through her with the same effort reserved for cutting through air. As her body descended to the floor, she managed to look down to see why she couldn't feel anything below her waist.

...Her waist had parted with her. The ninja's katana had bisected her at the beltline.

Against that revelation, she did her best to stay limp as she finally hit the floor, listening for the machine-man's light footsteps to move their distance away from her. She began to feel lightheaded and her vision began to fade. Was it going to end like this? Again?

…As a matter of fact, no. The sudden lightness she felt was her body dissolving into mist. She felt herself float off the floor with a relaxed, comforting sensation that ate away the pain she had just felt. For a moment, all fear and panic vanished, and the Police Girl only desired some time to put her distance away from the carnage.

It was then she felt herself slither through an air vent in the ceiling.

As soon as it had come, the sudden euphoria wore off. The realization resulted in a panic, and she felt an unpleasant clang against the floor of the vent. The relaxing weightlessness was gone.

...Mainly because she had weight again.

Gathering her bearings, Seras turned herself over in the airshaft and, while she could scarcely turn or look around in the confinement, realized she could feel and move her legs once more.

She pulled herself through the shaft, noticing the generous distribution of vent covers to provide her with a restricted view of the carnage back down in the hallway.

The ninja stopped as he reached the turn in the hallway. Only two soldiers remained, and one had somehow fallen on his back, shakily aiming his assault rifle at the slow cyborg.

As soon as the ninja turned to look at him, he let loose with a scream and a wave of bullets.

Seras watched the futile defense, her vampiric sight barely catching the blurry after images of the ninja swatting the projectiles as it stalked up to its attacker until the FAMAS clicked empty.

Not to be deterred, the soldier rose to his feet and, reaching to his side, prepared to win a Darwin Award.

"Take this!" The man said as he charged the enemy with a knife.

...Unsurprisingly, the ninja grabbed his wrist mid-swing and twisted it with a sickening crunch.

The soldier barely managed to scream before the ninja sent a diagonal slash down his midsection.

Seras closed her eyes, trying to contemplate her next step. This was hardly the ideal ambush point, given the ninja's nearly omniscient awareness.

That hesitation gave the ninja enough time to run his blade through the last soldier's stomach and hoist his weak body into the air like an overgrown shish-kebab.

"It's..." the helpless private whispered weakly "It's a...ghost…"

And in a flash, the ninja swung his sword and kicked the dying man off his blade and into the wall, cracking the metal barrier before the corpse crashed to the floor.

The ninja on the other hand, remained briefly frozen in his killing pose, leg still outstretched in the kick it extended from, before he gracefully brought it down into a standing position.

With a single blurred movement, the ninja shredded the card reader next to the door. He reactivated whatever cloaking technology he had been using before stepping through the entrance.

Seras began moving, the scientist would need her help, badly.

She had reached a vent overlooking the entrance just in time to see the ninja's transparent form back a fallen Dr. Emmerich into a corner next to the lockers.

"Stealth camouflage?" She heard him whimper. "Who are you?"

In a flash, the ninja revealed himself once again, invoking a frightened gasp from the scientist.

But that wasn't enough for the ninja. It shoved the tip of its katana **right** in the frightened engineer's face, mere centimeters from his nose.

Seconds later, Seras heard a hiss and an unpleasant smell hit her. She looked past the ninja to see a dark stain on Emmerich's pants forming between his legs. The poor man had soiled himself.

"_Where is my friend?"_ Came the ninja's cold, synthetic voice.

"What? What are you talking about?" the doctor managed to choke out through his fear.

Seras reached for her vent cover's screws and attempted to open the cover, however, something unexpected happened...

...a shot rang out.

Seras hadn't even started with the first screw by the time she saw the ninja swing around and bisect a handgun round meant for his head. The bullet's two halves curved from the interruption of their trajectory, one half hitting the space between the scientist's armpit, and another hitting the wall uncomfortably close to his head.

"Ohh..." Emmerich moaned. "**What next?**"

Seras directed her vision down to the source of the gunshot. Standing across the room from the ninja and his next victim was a man in a familiar sneaking suit. He was facing away from her at the moment, but in addition to the suit, she could make out a brown mullet and a blue bandana on his head.

"_Snake,"_ hissed the ninja as he took his attention away from Emmerich to focus on his attacker.

"Hey..." growled the agent. "...You're that ninja!"

_I could have told you that..._ Seras grumbled to herself. _I bet you were expecting Tim Curry._

"_I've been waiting for you, Snake."_ The ninja said with a previously unheard enthusiasm.

"Who are you?"

"_Neither enemy nor friend,"_ The ninja announced cryptically. "_I am back from a world where such words are meaningless."_ He gestured to the soldier with his katana. "_I have removed all obstacles. Now you and I will battle to the death."_

"What do you want?" Despite the carnage he surely would have witnessed in order to reach this room, Seras could have sworn 'Snake' sounded annoyed rather than intimidated.

"_Oh, I've waited a long time for this day,"_ the ninja remarked with muted excitement. "_...now I want to enjoy this moment."_

Fascinating as the cryptic conversation was, Seras could hear a certain nerd's whispered commentary from her hiding place.

"Wh-what's with these guys..." she heard him whisper. "It's like one of my Japanese animes!"

As if to encourage the doctor's observations, the ninja continued.

"_I've come from another world to battle with you,"_ the cyborg clarified.

"What is it?" the annoyed mercenary inquired. "Revenge?"

The ninja shook his head. "_It is nothing so trivial as revenge. A fight to the death with you. Only in that can my soul find respite."_ His voice grew more cold and severe with each word. "_I will kill you, or you will kill me...it makes no difference."_

By now, however, the scientist had enough. With a terrified cry, he leapt from his sitting position and stuffed himself in the locker. To Seras' relief, while the ninja looked back to watch the scientist flee, he made no attempt to intercept him.

"_Alright then, watch from your box seat,"_ The armored killer remarked with only the faintest annoyance.

_Well, if he's not going to go out of his way to kill him..._ Seras was about to jump for the vent cover's screws again until a new individual walked into view...

...Zorin.

She was wiping some strange, inky, black liquid off her face, and didn't seem to notice Seras, but it was too much. She could scarcely fight both the ninja and Zorin at once, and she'd likely only get in the agent's way when he fought that killing machine.

With heavy reluctance, Seras backed out of the vent, trying to make as little noise as possible, lest she draw the ire of the Millennium lieutenant.

"I need that man," Snake snarled. "Keep your hands off him!"

Zorin smiled, realizing this annoying banter would soon end. She couldn't wait to see how these two opponents measured up for entertainment.

"_Now, make me feel it..."_ The ninja roared with a new vigor, swinging his blade twice energetically. "..._**Make me feel alive again!**_"

* * *

Seras took a couple of deep breaths, suppressing the rage she felt at the senseless slaughter of the West family; and once she figured that she had her emotions under control, the former fledgling walked out of the small 'house' and headed back to the pit stop's self appointed sheriff.

"So? How is everyone? Are they okay?" the man asked.

"No," Seras replied, doing her best to keep a neutral tone... and not quite succeeding. "I'm afraid that Mr. and Mrs. West are dead."

"Dead?" the man asked in apparent shock. He paused for a moment, and Seras stayed quiet, allowing the news to sink in. "I... I never thought they'd go that far," the man finally continued, sounding a bit defensive. "You didn't mention anything about Ian. Is the boy alright?"

"Ian?" Seras asked.

"The Wests' son," the sheriff replied. "You didn't find him?" Seras shook her head. "Then The Family must've taken him!"

Seras's hand formed into a tight fist, and she once again fought for control over her emotions. A child recently orphaned, having seen his parents violently murdered by gang members, it hit a little too close to home. _At least I didn't see any evidence of them raping the mother_, the vampire thought. _Yes, at least there's that... he was spared __**that**_, she attempted to console herself. "Do you know where they've taken him?" Seras asked aloud, after a brief moment of silent thought.

"No... not exactly. But I can guess. I've seen members of The Family hanging around three spots: Northwest Seneca Station, Hamilton's Hideaway and the old Moonbeam Outdoor Cinema. Here, I'll mark them on your map."

While the sheriff was doing that, Seras remembered another thing she'd noticed about the bodies. In addition to the, far more shocking, blood, they were smeared with traces of a thick black substance. _Coal residue?_ Seras thought to herself and then asked, "Is there a train yard anywhere around here?"

The sheriff looked up from where he was marking the last of the three locations. "Ah, yeah. Now that you mention it, the Meresti Trainyard isn't too far away. Why?"

"I think The Family, or at least one of there members, has been through there recently."

"Oh... Well, in that case, I'll mark that location too." So saying, the sheriff did just that. Then he handed the map back to Seras. "I wish you both luck... and I do hope the lad's alright."

_Yeah, that makes two of us, _Seras thought. "Don't worry. I'll see that he gets back safely," she said. And then she and her old master began to walk away.

When they reached the base of the busted bridge that Arefu was built on, Seras turned to Alucard. "You were awfully quiet back there."

"Was I?" the No-Life King replied, his tone carrying just slightly more smugness than it usually did.

"Yes, you were," Seras stated firmly. "Why?" she asked.

Alucard grinned at her and replied. "I guess I was just a little preoccupied. This situation's struck a nerve, hasn't it? You relate to the missing child."

"How could you po-"

"Have you forgotten that I can read minds, Police Girl? Thoughts about what happened to your family were practically radiating off of you," Seras's old master answered before the former fledgling had even finished her question.

And the Police Girl felt a little... exposed. The fact that her old master could read her so easily wasn't exactly a pleasant thing to be reminded of. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could do the same to him. But, unfortunately, she'd never bothered to put the time into strengthening that particular ability. There was just something about another's mind that seemed... sacred. And Seras had never felt right about trying to invade the minds of others. It made her feel like a voyeur, a 'Peeping Tom'. Consequently, she was hardly equipped to lock mental horns with her old master. His own thoughts would remain hidden... except for what **he chose** to transmit to her.

"Don't worry, Police Girl," Alucard cooed in a soft, velvety voice that did little to actually ease his former fledgling's mind. "I don't make a habit of invading your thoughts. It's just that the emotions you were projecting were so strong; I became curious about their cause."

Alucard paused and gave Seras a long, appraising look. She seemed a little bit more at ease with the revelation that he didn't 'spy' on her all the time, and the No-Life King briefly wondered what it was in her thoughts that she didn't want him seeing. He considered peaking behind the curtain again, to find out; but because... whatever it was, it was something that she desperately wanted to keep him from discovering, he decided to respect her desire on the matter. After all, she wasn't his fledgling anymore, and she deserved **some** measure of privacy.

So after a moment, the No-Life King simply continued, "It will be... interesting to see how you deal with this situation."

"How **I** deal with this?" Seras asked. "Does that mean you want me to take the lead?"

"But of course, Police Girl. This is **your** quest after all. My quest involves obtaining a 'super-drug'... not finding some orphaned kid and insuring his safe return." Alucard paused and then added, "Besides, You've been a vampire for what now? Almost three hundred years? I want to see what kind of vampire you've become."

"So..." Seras began, sounding unsure. "This... This is some kind of a test?"

"No test, Police Girl. A test can be either passed... or failed. No matter **how** you choose to solve this problem, you won't have failed. So, call this more... idle curiosity."

"So you're just going to hang back and watch how I perform?"

"No... not exactly. I'll help if you ask me to... or I think your life is in danger. But I want to see how you handle this..." Alucard paused and leaned his head in close to Seras's. "From what I've sensed, this situation is a little more complex than you realize," he whispered into her ear before pulling back.

Despite herself, Seras's eyes went wide. She turned to her old master, and asked him what he meant. But Alucard merely chuckled and refused to elaborate further. And despite the No-Life King's claim, his former fledgling couldn't help but feel like she was indeed being tested.

* * *

Integra took a good, long stare at her 'pet'. She looked the vampire up and down and then twirled her finger, a silent gesture for the creature to turn and reveal a 'profile' view. The pet let out a slight sigh but complied without further complaint, and Integra took in the side view.

"Not bad. I think we're almost there... but you need to increase your bust-line a little more."

The vampire sighed again but then replied with a resigned tone. "Yes, Master." And Alucard's breasts grew a full cup size.

"Much better," Integra commented and then began to walk around her pet, carefully observing the new form from every angle.

Alucard shifted uncomfortably. Under other circumstances he would've enjoyed the strong willed, intelligent knight carefully inspecting his body in such a manner. But circumstances being what they were, he just felt rather... embarrassed. It was not **his** body that his beautiful master was observing, but rather a female version of it, a version that was being custom tailored to attract the attention of the Whitechapel murderer(s).

It was to be a 'sting' operation. Alucard would pose as a prostitute and wander the Whitechapel district until he attracted the attention of the infamous Jack the Ripper. Then once the Ripper had taken the 'bait' and it was clear that they had the right man, Alucard would either apprehend... or if that proved too troublesome, kill the serial murderer. The vampire had to admit, it was a sound plan that his master had devised. However, that did not mean that he had to like it.

Although he could shape-shift into nearly any form imaginable, Alucard had never tried out a female one before. He simply never felt a need to do so. What possible advantage could there be in assuming a female form instead of that of a large, imposing man... or a terrifying beast? But this particular plan called for female bait, and the only 'other' female available was his master. And as much as the vampire disliked posing as a female himself, he was even less thrilled with the idea of asking his master to be the 'bait'. If something were to go wrong and his master got hurt, he'd never forgive himself.

So Alucard stood there, dressed in late nineteenth century 'street walker' clothes and having '**his**' '**female**' body closely inspected by the woman who so captivated him. It was... strange, bizarre, embarrassing; and the vampire felt somewhat... emasculated by the whole ordeal. In fact he half wondered if he'd be blushing from it... were such a thing not impossible for a fully turned vampire.

Integra came back around to the front of her servant. The knight stroked her chin thoughtfully. ""Hmmm? Yes. I think we finally have it." Alucard sighed for a third time, but this time it was more an expression relief. Now at least his master would stop inspecting his new body like a piece of meat. But then Integra continued, "However, the size is a bit of a problem."

Alucard raised an eyebrow. "The size, Master?"

"Yes, you're still nearly seven feet tall. That's a little bit... 'off putting' to a lot of men, and we don't want to risk scaring the Ripper off. Shrink down to... oh say, five-six."

This time Alucard let out a slight groan. It wasn't enough that he'd been forced to abandon his masculinity and dignity... Now his master was calling for him to relinquish his stature as well. But though the vampire was loath to lose that last piece of his imposing form, he still obediently complied with his master's order.

Alucard shrunk down to five foot-six, and he now had to tilt his head up to look his Integra in her eyes. "Is this sufficiently... 'feminine', Master?" the vampire asked, a strange mixture of hope, embarrassment and... slight resentment apparent in his tone.

"Yes, I believe this will do nicely," Integra replied in a completely neutral, detached tone. But then the corner of her lip pulled into a slight smirk and her tone shifted. "You are very pretty, Alucard... I'm sure you could attract any man in the world."

A bizarre mixture of surprise and disgust quickly passed over Alucard's face. Then it fell into a rather pitiful looking expression. "Master, please?" the creature pleaded. "This is... unnerving enough. Must you add insult to injury by cracking jokes like that?"

"Oh, just suck it up, Vampire," Integra replied without the slightest hint of mercy. "After all the teasing and embarrassment you've put me through over the years, Lord knows, I deserve a little fun at your expense."

"Master, what are you talking about? When have I ever embarrassed **you**?"

"Oh, you haven't yet... but you will. Alucard, you will. And since time is circular, I don't mind getting some of my payback in the past."

It was then that the two heard a knock on Integra's hotel room door. "Who's there?" the knight asked.

"Sir Van Helsing," a voice replied through the door.

Alucard's face twisted into a scowl, and Integra did her best to calm her pet. "I know, how you feel about him," she whispered. "And I both understand... and sympathize with you. But he's my ancestor; and for things to workout the 'right way', you have to-"

"I know," the vampire cut in. "I know. I'll humor the 'fool'," Alucard continued and rolled 'his' eyes. _At least until he sires an heir,_ the creature finished within the safety of his own mind.

"Come in," Integra answered her ancestor.

The door opened, and the slayer walked inside. "I've come to see if you've made any progress with your reser-" The man's voice trailed off, and he raised his eyebrow at the sight before him. "And why," he asked rather harshly, turning sharply on Integra, "may I ask, do you have a... a... 'lady of the night' in your room?"

Integra looked offended by her ancestor's implication. She opened her mouth to bark out a reply, but her pet beat her to it.

"I'm bait," the vampire answered in a sweet, completely false tone. And then 'her' lip curled into a devilish grin as a mischievous idea popped into her head.

"Bait?"

"For the Ripper. Integra thinks that you'll have a better chance of capturing him if you lure him into a trap. I'll make good bait, don't you think?" the monster replied as 'she' slowly stalked up to the man, swaying 'her' hips suggestively the whole way.

Integra kept silent, allowing her pet to have a little taste of revenge for what her ancestor had put him through. After all, Alucard had been very cooperative, even attentive, with her; and every good pet deserved a little treat once in awhile.

"Um... That is to say... I... Uh..." Abraham stammered feeling half hypnotized by the 'beautiful woman's' movements.

The vampire reached the stammering idiot and ran a dainty hand along his jaw line. "What's the matter? Cat got you're tongue?" 'she' cooed.

The man felt strange, lightheaded. "Uh..."

The vampire pressed a thin, feminine finger to the man's lips. "Shhhs. It's alright. I'm a professional... You don't need to talk; I know what men like you want," the creature said and pursed 'her' lips together.

Without even thinking about it, the man closed his eyes and bent his head; and then just as his lips were about to touch the vampire's, the creature shifted back into his regular form. "My, my- you are a sick one, Abe, aren't you?" Alucard asked in his usual, deep voice.

Abraham's eyes instantly shot open, and he let out a scream that would've done a banshee proud. The man quickly jerked his body backwards, tripping himself in the process. He fell into a very undignified position and began to shout and hurl terrible, ungodly insults at the vampire.

Alucard just turned back to Integra and grinned. She returned his grin with a subtle curling of her own lips. And the vampire suddenly realized that perhaps... just perhaps there were a few advantages to assuming a female shape after all.

(Well, we hope you enjoyed the eighteenth chapter. Please review and let us know what you though. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid and Crow T R0bot.)


	20. Loading Save

**Loading Save**

**Crow's Note**: I did it...I **finally did it**! After six months, I was able to put myself back in the chair and finish this chapter. Now I am posting it with my sincerest apologies, both to our readers and to Metropolis Kid for making him wait so long. To everyone reading this, I thank you for your patience and ask for your forgiveness. Hopefully I will not be so lazy in the future. Hopefully this chapter and the ones to follow are up to snuff!

* * *

Seras slumped to the elevator floor as what was left of her composure gave out. The smell of blood and the lingering fumes of poison gas were still thick in her nose, and the shame and regret was just now beginning to ebb at her mind.

_Stupid Seras!_ She cursed herself. _You never ran away from a fight since you joined Hellsing, but when the fate of the whole world is at stake, you run away from a lousy ninja and a ghost woman!_

Her self-inflicted hatred threatened to squeeze bloody tears from her eyes. _I'll bet Snake and Dr. Emmerich are probably dead by now because of you!_

_

* * *

__**WHAM!**_

Zorin gave a gleeful jump as the ninja slammed painfully into the computer mainframes, courtesy of his blue-suited mercenary opponent.

She had tailed the sneaky agent ever since she had been drawn to the sound of Ocelot's gunfire in the Armory's second floor basement. As tempting as it had been to end his life, especially given the brain-breakingly long conversations he had with that now dead corporate suit and that wannabe Bond Woman, Zorin had stayed her hand and watch the human slip by his enemies like a ghost. It wasn't exactly Zorin's favorite modus operandi...

...but seeing the mercenary destroy an M1 Abrams tank with only a few carefully pitched grenades to the gunner's seat raised the vampire mesmerist's opinion of the soldier significantly. Fighting this ninja wasn't exactly a snoozefest either. When he realized the ninja could deflect any bullet he sent his way, the soldier had the audacity to merely run up to the machine and send a combo of punches and kicks into his face.

"_That's good Snake..."_ She remembered the ninja hiss. "_...now we can fight as warriors, hand to hand. It is the basis of all combat. Only a __**fool**_ _trusts his life to a weapon."_ The ninja had ditched his sword with that remark.

Now, after a rousing bit of fisticuffs, the once graceful killer was flat on his face, with the so-called "Solid Snake" standing poised for more. Both he and Zorin had noticed for the last third of the fight that the ninja had seemed to get a masochistic sexual thrill from his injuries, and would likely try to invite more pain on himself if he could help it.

Slowly, the ninja pushed itself up into a kneel. One devoid of the pristine motion it had once moved with.

"_I felt that, Snake..."_ The cyborg groaned, summoning the strength to make itself stand and bring its single red 'eye' to meet his adversary's. "_...__**Do you remember me now?**_"

Snake's eyes narrowed on his cryptic stalker. He could not deny that he was somehow familiar. The list of people he knew with such talent for CQC was short and most of its membership dead. Still, that voice, hoarse and synthesized as it was, stimulated memories of days he had tried to forg-...

Zorin heard Snake's breath freeze.

"It can't be!" The unflappable soldier Zorin had stalked seemed to vanish, his heart accelerating with a faint scent of fear on his breath. "**...You were killed in Zanzibarland!"**

This turn of events left the bloodsucker with a conundrum. Those last words the soldier had uttered spiked no small amount of curiosity in her, but after watching Snake just slither his way through the enemy's sights without so much as one exchange of gunfire, she would not be sated by these scant ten minutes of fisticuffs.

However, Zorin, being a Millennium officer, knew within a heartbeat what the best choice was.

The slimy sensation of the third eye opening in the palm of her right hand was followed by the warping and distorting of the numbers and letters tattooed across half her body. Being a ghost, she needed no real discretion to sneak up behind the otherwise alert ninja, but just to play it safe, made a point to place her palm upon the back of his armored head as gently as possible.

She felt it immediately, that bloodlust, that desire to make one's last moments a blaze of glory, and the desire to **see** those last moments as quickly as possible radiated to the faux-draculina's mind. They were so delicious, euphoric, and she was more than happy to spur them forth.

She could also feel memories, coherent, stable, but damaged beginning to dominate the man's inner warrior. She frowned, '_not on my watch... Herr Jaeger.'_

Unseen, the characters flowed off of her muscular arm and across the cyborg's face, ready to 'remind' him why he was here, and to finish the job he started. She would bury the man underneath the armor, and let the 'ninja' smother him long enough to take down that wretched 'Snake.'

It worked too well.

"_Aaaaa__**rrrrgh!"**_ It was a reflex, Zorin ripped her hand away from the warrior as electricity suddenly burst from his body in conjunction with the hoarse and agonized scream that rung in her ears. Its body shook, five seconds of what could best be described as a seizure, and the ninja sank to its knees once more.

"_The..." _The ninja gasped through its pain. "_...The __**mediciiiine!"**_

Whatever the lightning flashing across the ninja's body was, nothing in the room could take it. Any computer that was still on was wrecked. Control panels fizzled out, keyboards sparked, and one monitor after another exploded from the energy the man radiated.

Even after that, Snake was almost the perfect picture of serenity. Even Zorin had to confess that the spazz attack had thrown her off while the mercenary seemed only mildly perturbed.

She seemed to be doing better than the scientist she could hear whimpering in the locker, at least.

For whatever reason, even though the pain escalated, the ninja had stooped to banging its armored head against the hard floor.

"What's happening?!" Snake managed to ask through his own apprehension.

"_I'm..."_ The ninja cried between slams. "_...I-I'm __**losing myseeeeelf!"**_

And with that, the ninja's last headslam left it limp on the floor.

Zorin did nothing to break the silence that followed, her plan to prolong the fight had backfired, and her foul mood was starting to return. The whimpering from the locker didn't do anything to help, "Is...is it over?" She could hear that bespectacled nerd whisper.

However, as quickly as it came, the rage left when the ninja began to pull itself to its feet again.

_About damn time!_

Unfortunately, fate would yank Zorin's chain once more.

The ninja began to convulse even more, producing even a louder, painful wail than the first time around. No sooner did its seizure begin than it became invisible. Soon, blurs appeared around the room, leaving sparking gashes in the wall, exploding more monitors, blowing out the occasional ceiling light. The noise and chaos invited more terrified murmuring from the scientist and an increasingly startled Snake, who somehow had the nerve to keep his feet glued in place amidst the chaos.

And after what seemed like an eternity of destruction, everything just...stopped. Like the phantom she had become, Zorin could no longer sense the mechanized shinobi. She was alone with the Kurt Russell wannabe and that sniveling nerd, and no one to fight.

Still, she couldn't think of anything else to do. Deciding that the inevitable infodump would be worth it, she stood unseen in the room waiting for the inevitable torrent of exposition she'd no doubt hear.

It began when Snake snapped out of his shocked reverie, knelt, and activated his codec. Colonel Campbell's face had barely managed to appear onscreen before he could breathlessly announce his revelation.

* * *

"**Gray Fox!**" Snake yelled at the officer. "**Colonel!** That ninja is **Gray Fox! No doubt about it!**"

Seras hesitated to leave the elevator once the doors opened. The sight of elegant, polished hardwood walls and marble floors were a jarring change of scenery compared to the metallic, futuristic environments that she had encountered, but that's not what made her ill at ease.

As soon as the elevator doors had opened, a familiar, mellifluous, yet malevolent melody sang in her ears. That tune, that hymn, she had only heard it once, but she remembered it well enough to know it only meant one thing...

...Psycho Mantis was afoot.

_Gee, out of the frying pan and into...another frying pan. It just gets better and better doesn't it?_ The sarcasm flooding her mind threatened to squirt right out of her ears. _What else can spice your life up? Come on, it'll happen sooner or later_

A soldier passed in front of the elevator, never speaking...

...but answering Seras' unasked question with a feminine wiggle of 'his' hips.

Before Seras could contemplate just how she had noticed that strange mannerism, a wave of scents assaulted her nose, old, but somewhat appetizing. It was blood, several hours old, but the nectar of unlife nonetheless. In fact, it was mixed with the fading scent of gunpowder, too weak for any human nose to pick up, but...

Seras stepped out of the elevator and took a peak at the person that had passed by the elevator. To the naked eye, this individual could pass for one of the bad guys easily, but she didn't even need her third eye to see through such a simple disguise.

However, she brought out her third eye once more, remembering the chilling melody weaving through her ears. The last time she heard that song, Integra had tried to kill her and her master, an incident that Seras didn't want to talk into a repeat of.

Convinced that she was safe for the time being, and that she was the only other "soldier" in the hallway, the police girl sprinted up behind the 'guard,' and greeted 'him' with a poke to the back...

...with the FAMAS' barrel.

"Can you be quiet?"

Of all the things to give her an answer, it was the bright exclamation point that had magically appeared above the guard's head as soon as she had spoken. Before she could make anything of it, however, the punctuation mark had vanished, just like the question mark at the relay station.

By the time Seras had noticed the guard had thrown 'his' hands into the air in surrender, she decided it wasn't a detail worth dwelling on.

It was then that she remembered her surroundings. She was in an open hallway, and any conversation she could hold with this soldier would be compromised as soon as another of their number waltzed into the corridor. The girl looked around quickly and, conveniently, down the hall, was a large hardwood column fit for hiding behind.

"The pillar," she whispered into her 'hostage's' ear, "...move behind it."

The 'soldier' immediately complied, and Seras lowered her rifle in return for the compliance. Once they were behind the pillar, Seras let the gun fall to her side entirely. Her lips began to part to send her a barrage of weapons before...

"Silverburgh, Meryl," the individual announced abruptly, her voice immediately confirming Seras' suspicions on her gender. "...Private First Class, serial number--..." she didn't get to finish.

"I'm sorry?"

"Geneva Convention, asshole." The professional tone she had spoken in slipped away immediately. "Name, rank, serial number. Terrorist or not, that's all you're getting!"

"No, no," Seras hissed, trying to shush the masked woman. "I'm not with them!...Look, just turn around!"

The woman didn't make things more complicated. She quickly pivoted on her heel to face Seras. In return, the vampire tore off her balaclava for just a few seconds to assure her new 'friend' that she wasn't with the terrorists.

Surprise registered in the masked woman's brown eyes, but she was able to stay composed rather easily. In fact...

"Would you put that thing back on?!" She hissed. "What if somebody sees you?"

"Oh...of course," Seras complied, remembering that she had dragged the stranger down here in the first place to **avoid** being seen.

"Now..." the new woman began more calmly. "What question do I ask first?"

"I suppose I should cover the basics then..." she rubbed the back of her head, hoping the anxious gesture reassured the young woman of her harmlessness. "The name's Seras Victoria, and I'm...not from around here."

"Uh-huh," she dragged out the second syllable a bit to accent her skepticism. "...Would you define 'around here' as the entire North American continent?" She had obviously noticed Seras' Englishness.

"...Would you believe I'm terribly lost?" She chuckled nervously.

"...and here I thought we women were smart enough to stop and ask for directions." At last, the woman—Meryl, if Seras remembered right—relaxed her stance. "Don't worry, I believe you, but I want to know how you knew who I was?"

Seras opened her mouth, but paused carefully. There were so many things that could go wrong by telling her that she had paid just a **little** too much attention to her rear.

"...I just have an eye for detail." It wasn't a lie, just a very broad truth, she assured herself.

To her relief, it was a satisfactory answer.

"Well, in that case, I'm sure you've noticed World War III is going to start in less than 15 hours unless someone does something about it." Despite the weight of her statement, she seemed to relax. "Lucky for us that Solid Snake is on the loose somewhere."

Seras winced inwardly. The last time she had seen Snake, he had been facing down that crazy-skilled ninja. His fate no doubt sealed by its mere presence. What was she to do? Dash this woman's hopes that the only agent on the island was a smear on the wall, or keep her blissfully unaware of Snake's demise.

She hadn't expected Meryl to add "...I just hope he went easy on that ninja. He hasn't called for my input in a while, so I guess that's a good sign."

"Good...**good** sign?!" Seras' voice leapt back and forth a few octaves with her befuddlement. "That ninja's killed at least a dozen people I know of! What do you mean 'go easy on him?!'"

"Huh," Seras could almost see her smirk through her mask "I guess you really are new around here."

* * *

Seras and her old master arrived at the Meresti Trainyard. There were a few feral ghouls by the entrance, but they posed little threat. Seras simply brought her Chinese Assault rifle to bare; and, with a couple of three round bursts into each of the ghouls' heads, their dead bodies quickly fell to the dirt.

Alucard didn't even lift a finger. He just hung back and watched his former fledgling- not quite as… bloody as he would've been, but their was no doubt that the girl was efficient. The elder vampire kept his two main guns holstered and his acquired, makeshift stake projector slung across his back as he followed Seras into the waiting 'mouth' of the train tunnel.

Inside, the pair encountered a few more small groups of ferals, but they fell just as quickly as the ones outside the tunnel had. There were also a number of traps- mostly of the trip wire variety. However, the vampires' third eye powers would've put Spiderman's spidysense to shame, and Seras disarmed each trap without incident.

Once again Alucard just hung back. He stared appraisingly at his former fledgling. So far she hadn't needed his help once. She'd even spotted the bomb within the 'crying' baby carriage- something that he felt sure the Seras of his time would've been too overcome by feelings of maternal sympathy to notice. Yes, so far, his former fledgling was doing very well without his assistance. And that caused both a spark of pride and a pang of… something akin to loss to shoot through the ancient monster, as he realized that his little Police Girl was (nearly) all grown up.

Soon the pair came to a fenced in area, and a guard raised his gun. "What do you think you're doing down here? This is Family territory. You'd better be going while you can."

Seras's hand started towards her Chinese rifle as her mouth opened up for 'negotiations'. However both things proved unnecessary.

The guard saw the look that Alucard was giving him and quickly recognized the hungry glint in the monster's eyes. "Oh… so it's like that?" The guard chuckled. "Sorry, mate- didn't know you felt the… call too." The man stepped aside. "Welcome to Meresti. You'll find Vance inside."

Seras's brow furrowed. What 'call' was this loony referring to? But she wasn't about to cause a scene… not yet. This guy was obviously low man on the totem poll- leaders and VIPs seldom stooped to guard duty. And it would be better to find out more before cutting loose with her guns- maybe, just maybe, violence could even be avoided all together. She still doubted it- someone had to pay for what happened to the Wests. But, she was a firm believer in getting all the information she could before acting- a combination of a hold over from her police training and the years she'd spent in the post apocalyptic wasteland, years that had shown her things were seldom clear cut black and white.

The two vampires continued on a short distance and soon came to a large, open area of the underground train tunnels. This was obviously some sort of gathering place for members of the 'Family'- though the spacious area was far from full. Seras estimated that there were about a dozen people moving around the gathering place- pretty small gang to have caused so much trouble, in her opinion. Then again, Arfu was a pretty small 'town', so she supposed it balanced out.

The two vampires' presence did not go unnoticed, and soon a woman walked over to them. Her clothes were dirty, and she looked a little… loose- with her low cut front and completely exposed mid-section. However, the expression on the woman's face was pleasant enough.

"Hello there strangers," she greeted in a platonically friendly tone. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Holly, Vance's wife."

"Ah… hello," Seras replied a little taken back by the civil… and somewhat welcoming greeting. This was not what she'd expected from a blood thirsty gang, and it was certainly different from the greeting she'd received from the guard outside. "I'm Seras," she replied once she'd recovered from her surprise. "What is this place?"

"This is Meresti, the home of the Family. It's the only safe place for these poor people."

Seras's face took on a confused look. _'These poor people'? _What was going on here? This Holly certainly wasn't talking like a gang member. "Ah… could you give me any information on your… ah, 'family'?"

Holly seemed only too happy to comply with the request. "My husband started this group not long ago. He was trying to save them from a life of hardship and ridicule. They come from all over the wasteland now, to find us and become part of the Family."

'_They come from all over the wasteland…'? _And just who were they?! "Um… and just who, exactly, would 'they' be?" Seras asked in her usually pleasant tone, a tone that belied the frustration she was feeling.

"Oh… people like your friend back there," Holly answered as she cast a look over at Alucard.

Once again Seras's brow furrowed. Like her old master? Now what was that suppose to mean? Vampires? The people around her were definitely human- though their auras did seem a little… odd. But the energy they were giving off was completely different from that of vampires… not to mention the fact that in over two hundred years Seras had yet to find another vampire in the remnants of what was once the United States. So how else could 'they' be like her 'friend back there'? Killers? Psychopaths? Those terms could be used to accurately describe more than half the people in the Wasteland, and this group seemed to be far more… exclusive than that. Although this Holly woman was pleasant enough, Seras quickly decided that the information she was giving was incomplete and had little value. But perhaps she could get somewhere with a more direct question? "Oh… okay. I'm looking for Ian West. Is he around here anywhere?"

"I'm afraid Vance has him in isolation, and there's no way I'm going to override Vance's orders. He's a good kid. I think Vance will set him on the correct path soon… like he did for all of us."

Finally- there was a piece of information she could use! So, Ian was here- apparently in some kind of solitary confinement. And Vance was the one to talk to about the boy… or the first one who needed to be 'taken out'- should a peaceful solution not be possible.

Seras thanked the woman for her help and then began to look around for Vance. Of course, not knowing who 'Vance' was, Seras quickly decided that she'd need to ask someone. This proved unnecessary since her old master tapped her lightly on the shoulder and pointed towards the man looking down at them from the overpass.

_Now how could he… _Seras thought and then stopped as she remembered her old master's mind reading powers. But, hadn't he said he wasn't going to help her out unless she asked for it… or her life was in danger?

"It was a simple enough matter. You could've easily gotten the information from anyone here. This just saved us a little bit of time," Alucard offered up in answer to his former fledgling's unspoken question, and Seras glared at him- knowing that he was reading her once again. Alucard seemed amused by the glare. He chuckled lightly then responded, "You were projecting… You can hardly blame someone for eavesdropping if you're shouting something at the top of your lungs."

Seras made a little huff in reply but recognized that her old master had a point. So, she dropped her objection and continued on to Vance. As the former fledgling began to ascend the steps she turned back to Alucard and noticed that her old master was casting veiled, yet offended looks at most of the humans around them.

Seras paused halfway up the flight of stairs and whispered, "Something wrong?"

Alucard let out a little sigh, but did not elaborate on his discomfort… other than saying that Seras would find out soon enough.

* * *

Alucard- having taken the form of a buxomy twenty something year old woman and clad in nineteenth century 'hooker' garb - still felt a little embarrassed as he walked the London streets. The plan was that he would act as bait and (hopefully) lure Jack out of hiding. However, so far the only people who'd paid him any serious interest were obviously NOT psychotic killers. As one himself- even had it not been for the vampire's sixth sense -he could recognize the trait in others.

There was just something about the eyes… always the eyes. They were, after all, the windows to the soul. And so far, none of the men who'd attempted to proposition 'him' had that killer look, though a few did get rather upset at the 'professional girl's' rebuttals to their clumsy advances. However, some twisted wrists… and a couple of dislocated shoulders did wonders to convince even the most amorous 'suitors' that their time and energy would be better invested elsewhere.

While Alucard- uncomfortable… and feeling somewhat embarrassed -continued to attract… and repel men who were definitely NOT Jack the Ripper, Integra watched from the concealment of a nearby roof top- her lip curling at each unwanted 'pass' her future pet fended off. It was quite amusing to see him like that- so different from his usual demeanor. In her time, even when her pet did assume the guise of a female, he was still confident, manipulative, devious- in short, he was himself. But now- at this earlier point in time -he was somewhat off balance, a little clumsy, less confident. And that made her smile- to think of her servant in a situation where he was… more human.

However, Integra's enjoyment was interrupted as a voice called out to her from behind. "Well, well… what have we here?" Integra turned and found herself staring at the dark silhouette of a tall man- who was mostly shaded by the shadow of the overhang of a nearby and higher roof top.

The man chuckled- a deep, throaty chuckle. "Just as I thought," he continued. "Your dress may be that of a man, but your figure was obviously a woman's. Tell me, why would a flower like you wrap your petals in such masculine garb?"

Integra's eyes narrowed. "My reasons are my own. Mr.?"

"My, my- so defiant too. It's been a long time since I took a woman of your obvious fire." The man laughed- an eerie, half crazed sort of laugh. And then, as he stepped out from the shadows, Integra saw the sick smile on his face and the unholy flash of insanity in his eyes. "I'm known by many names, but you, you may call me… Jack."

Integra's hand instantly reached for her gun, but she found herself unable to grasp the weapon. Her hand simply wouldn't obey her thoughts. It just hung there by her side, unable to close- pried open by what felt like another human… though very cold hand. She tried to scream; but as soon as her mouth opened, she felt another cold hand clamp down over it.

Yet, the worst thing was not that she couldn't pull her gun. Nor was it that she was unable to call for help. No, the worst thing was that despite feeling him holding her hand open and her mouth shut, 'Jack' was still over five yards away- he had yet to move from where he'd been standing during his… 'introduction'. And for the first time in many years, Sir Integra's eyes actually went wide with fear.

"Are you beginning to understand now, Lass? You're mine now. I will take you, and there's not a thing you can do about it. Come along now," the 'man' continued as he motioned his hand upwards and Integra lifted into the air and floated over to him. "It's time for us to… get to know each other better, and I don't want that vampire of yours interfering in my fun."

Integra tried one last thing. She tried to contact her servant through their mental link. However that thing… 'Jack' seemed to have- somehow -blocked that as well.

About ten minutes later, Alucard sighed as he sent another (lightly) injured man running away. Never before had the vampire stopped to consider just how much stupidity the average… 'street walker' had to put up with. Not only were most of the men who sought them out incredibly foolish; they were often drunk and very… 'forward' as well. And the vampire wondered why any woman would resort to such a profession. Surely there had to be another way to put food on the table- even for the poorest, most down on her luck girl. Alucard had no idea what that profession might be of course, but by his way of thinking there just HAD to be something better than dealing with all these idiots night after night.

Finally, Alucard sighed; and- for the fifth time that night -he thought to Integra and asked her if they could 'pack it up' and go home yet. However, this time something unexpected happened. Integra didn't reply.

Alucard's eyebrows arched, and he tried again. And once again there was no reply. Becoming worried, he tried one last time to make mental contact- this time forgetting the question about leaving and just asking the woman, he'd come to call "master", if she could hear him. When this too failed to provoke any kind of reply, Alucard abandoned his post and flew up to the roof top where Integra had been waiting and watching that whole night.

But there was no sign of her. Confusion, anger and… concern all played across the monster's face. They, each of them, battled for control; yet it was a battle none of them could win. Driven to a near panic, Alucard's concentration wandered, causing his form and clothing to return to their normal- Count Dracula -appearance as he almost franticly looked around, scanning all nearby roof tops. Still, the creature could find no trace of his master, and something was blocking their mental connection as well.

Yet, the vampire still had one… 'talent' at his disposal. Before night fell Integra had just started a new… 'cycle'. And every time the wind had blown her upwind of him that night, he'd caught a whiff of her exotic, virgin blood. The vampire bent his head back and inhaled deeply several times, and then recognition flashed on his face as a familiar scent caught his attention.

Alucard grinned and took off- leaping from roof top to roof top -following the thin trail of his master's blood upon the air. The first orange rays of sunrise were just starting to peak over the horizon- sapping a portion of the ancient vampire's power. But it didn't matter. The Count was- once more -loose in London. He would find his Countess… and he would deal with whoever it was that had attempted to take her from him.

* * *

Silence was the only reply Seras could muster.

It gave Meryl a chance to glance back down the hall, just in time to see one of the guard's enter the men's bathroom at the opposite end from where they conversed. As soon as he crossed through the door, the disguised human produced something small and grey from her front breast pocket.

"Here..."

Seras snapped out of her dumbstruck stupor to see Meryl offer her a tiny handheld cylinder.

"What's this for?"

"It's a laser pointer..." Meryl explained patiently. "If we get separated, try using it to signal me. Not the most discreet means of contact, I know, but at least if someone other than me sees you, all you'll get is a tongue lashing."

The pointer slipped out of the redhead's hand and into Seras' pocket.

"I guess it's the thought that counts," Seras thought it was best not to tell Meryl she could just sniff her out. Today's events were probably enough of a burden on the rookie without her learning vampires were real.

"What if I run into Snake?" Seras realized that her uniform might not be the best way to avoid the operative's eyes (no doubt some sort of cosmic joke, given that the man was trying to stay out of sight himself). Meryl had explained the man had braved a tank less than an hour ago, and it had made it easy for the Police Girl to forget that she could shrug off any mortal wound.

"Hey, as long as he knows **I'm** up here, he probably won't be as trigger-happy," Meryl reassured, "and even if I wasn't, I think he might want to keep the bloodstains to a mum. If he's in a good mood, you'll probably never know he's there."

That wasn't very reassuring.

Meryl jumped, causing the vampire to tense. She didn't sense any danger (save for the unsettling music no doubt produced by the absent Psycho Mantis), but Meryl's reaction...

"What is it?"

"It's my Codec..." she trailed off as she examined the small wrist device. There was a new importance in her voice, but Seras could make out the relaxing formations of a smile "...It's **him!**"

Him? Did she mean Snake? How did she know he was contacting her? Come to think of it, what _was_ that gizmo on her wrist? She opened her mouth to voice her questions before Meryl lifted her balaclava off her head, revealing the same red-headed woman Seras saw doing crunches in the jail cells in the Tank Hangar basement.

"_Meryl, the engineer's okay."_ Snake's voice echoed in Meryl's ears.

"That's a relief." Meryl kept her statement laconic.

"_I want you to look after him. Where are you now?"_

"Very close."

"**There she is!**"

Seras and Meryl both turned their heads to the other end of the hall, where a trio of guards had materialized. From this distance, Seras could see a flash of new alertness and adrenaline spike through them as they raised their assault rifles.

Fortunately, Seras was quicker to the draw and before anyone could aim, the guard in the middle of their number dropped to the floor with a bullet squarely between the eyes.

"Oh no, damn! They spotted me!" She yelled before a stray bullet hitting the pillar next to her made her drop her Codec. She ducked behind it and checked the clip in her FAMAS as Seras placed one more shot between each surviving guard's eyes.

"The coast is clear for now!" Seras kept calm as he kept her eyes trained on the hall and the surrounding doors for any more guards. "Put your bloody mask on and keep blending in!"

Meryl put her mask back on and paused at the vampire's side, nodding acknowledgement.

"I'll try to stay on this floor," she warned. "I'll keep my lips zipped until I get a hold of Snake!"

Without letting her give a word of acknowledgement, Meryl ran ahead and ducked into a pair of double doors across the hall from the elevator.

Seras waited for another rifle report. It never came. However, she knew a security detail would be on this floor like white on rice in minutes.

Securing her grip on her gun, Seras cleared her throat. "Testing..."

She grimaced under her mask as her very manly guard voice returned. There were so many shades of wrong in that, but at least it would make unlife easier around her.

She bounded after Meryl, leaving the hall empty...

...She felt compelled to ignore the strange distortion in the air hovering over the corpses...

* * *

He watched, and had been watching since the second imposter had stepped out of the elevator. Watched how she had immediately identified the other woman and drew her to a less than discreet hiding place. It was so intriguing that he just had to give them a few "suggestions" on how to converse.

With his pervasive song, he had made them drop the ball more than a few times where common sense was concerned. He had pried the redhead's sense of trust to make her more open to the crazier of the two women. He had also suggested that she keep the single PAL key she had on her person a secret. No need for anyone other than Snake to know about it. He had even persuaded her to take off her mask where any passing guard could see it and be alerted immediately.

Stupid, **stupid** girl...and a good little one, an informative one.

It had been that other woman that irked him though.

For starters, she **was** a woman after all.

That his pride could tolerate. It was certain other surface thoughts he could pick from her brain that had disturbed him. This woman was still convinced she was a vampire, and that Octopus' restless spirit had begun stalking her, along with a curious assortment of war-mongering magical Nazi ghosts.

Mantis was intrigued, what earlier memories he could extract from the woman's head seemed disturbingly consistent with her more recent experiences. Real vampires? Real werewolves?

If they existed, why didn't they **do their jobs** and keep these vermin culled?!

It's not like anyone could see him well with his optic-camouflage suit active, but even if they could, they would never be able to guess what was going on in Mantis' mind. His expression—already hidden by a mask—and his body language remained unchanged as he pondered the implications the girl's thoughts created.

These "vampire ghosts," if they weren't just the figment of an overactive imagination, could be a lot more helpful given their supposed involvement in the 1999 London Conflagration. After all the vermin they had snuffed out, one would think they'd give FOXHOUND a more helping hand. They probably didn't know or care about "Outer Heaven," Mantis sure as hell didn't either...

...He just wanted an excuse to kill as many of those wastes of oxygen as he could. If Liquid had to plunge the world into chaos to do it, more power to him.

Of course, if that woman really **was** the vampire she thought she was, Mantis and Liquid's already risky gambit to get Snake to "help" them was already in Jeopardy.

Speaking of Snake, it was about then that Mantis decided to retreat back to the Commander's Office down the hall. The ex-FOXHOUND operative would probably be here any minute to rescue his commander's niece. He already had a perfectly good ambush prepared, and he didn't want Snake to catch him with his pants down, even though he'd be more than able to counter him.

'_Yes...'_ Mantis thought to himself as he drifted through the office entrance. '_Ghosts or not, I still have an act to keep up.'_ He mentally reviewed his scheme and found himself questioning his own ingenuity. '_...Can't have Snake think we're going easy on him.'_

Of course, Mantis had failed to take into account one detail...

...Once Snake reached him, how could he avoid suspicion while convincing his adversary that he had bested a **telepath?**

Somewhere, someone with a game controller was laughing...

* * *

Well, he hope you enjoyed the new chapter, sorry about the long wait. :( Let us know what you thought of it, okay? And hopefully we'll get the next update to you guys and gals a little bit faster. :P

Have a good day, God bless and Merry Christmas.

Crow T. R0bot and Metropolis Kid.


	21. No Heroes in War

**No Heroes in War**

**AN: **Due to some business that's come up Metropolis Kid is unable to find the time to type up his contributions to this chapter. So this one is all Crow's. Metro's story lines will continue with the next chapter. Hope you'll enjoy.

* * *

The assault team sent to investigate the shootings in the First Floor Basement had left rather quickly, and the status quo had quickly returned. Seras had replaced one of the guards she had killed and now patrolled a large office space across the hall from the elevator.

Meryl had proven easy to keep track of. She hadn't changed the walking stance that Seras had used to identify her, and the only other guard in the area was leaving frequently for bathroom breaks. Now it was just a matter of keeping an eye out for Snake. The room was well lit and while there were a few high guard rails, she imagined there weren't many places to hide. She'd just smoke out Snake, find Meryl, and they could probably formulate a plan, simple as that?

Seras must have done her twentieth lap around the room when her foot brushed something.

"Huh?" She looked down at the offending pressure. "Oh...just a box."

She moved on until she passed a short staircase and started sweeping her vision across the room. There was a small "pit" in the center, its edges lined with four desks playing host to computers and other office supplies. Several doors of varying security clearance lined the walls, two across the room from her and three more on her side. There was a small space near the northwest corner of the room devoted to lockers and stacking boxes, and overall, not many places to hide. She'd find the agent soon enough.

'_...If that ninja didn't kill him.'_ Seras still wasn't convinced any mortal could have stood up to that cybernetic monstrosity.

She looked back towards the entrance, waiting for Snake to step through, if he had survived, then considered searching one of the offices behind her for "intel" to pass the time.

As she turned to face one of the doors, however, her vision swept past the walkway she had just passed through.

The box was on the opposite side of the first door she had passed, closer to her.

She shook her head. Just because she had super-vision didn't mean she remembered exactly where every odd and end belonged.

Realizing she had wasted some time dwelling on the unlikely oddity, Seras once more scanned the room in case the one real guard came back. Discretion would do her, Meryl, and Snake a great deal of convenience in the long run.

Realizing that Meryl was still the only other "guard" in the room, she tried to do another about-face.

…Only to see that box again, now parked at the edge of the door she had intended to move back over.

Seras blinked, there wasn't anyone around to move that, was there?

Just to be sure, she rubbed her eyes. _Probably just seeing things_, she imagined...

After three seconds, her vision cleared quickly enough to still see the box...

...now sitting on the side of the door closer to her.

For the barest of moments, Seras thought she felt her heart start up again, as if feeling its body's rising apprehension.

_No, no, nononononono! That was just your imagination!_ Seras' bit her lip so hard she was sure a bloody stain would appear on her mask. _The box didn't talk to you...hehehehe..._

She turned around, hoping the corrugated container would go away if she didn't look at it. _You're just in a hospital, having a dying dream from that night Master shot you through the lung, and this is the effect of the drugs they're using for life-saving surgery._

Despite her best efforts, she dared to peak over her shoulder.

The box was right at her back.

Her eyes squeezed shut again! _No Seras! It's just a stupid box...a very scary, mobile and unsettling box...but a cardboard box doesn't stand a chance against a vampire! You can do this!_

Her grip tightened on her FAMAS one more time. She took an involuntary breath and counted down.

_3...2...1..._

She pivoted so quickly she was certain she left a Matrix-like after-image of herself standing still.

"**Aha!**"

The box was gone.

Seras' shoulders slumped.

_...Really?_

She was totally unprepared for the muscular arms that suddenly wrapped around her throat from behind.

On reflex alone, Seras tried to scream, but the phantom limbs had squeezed down on her windpipe too quickly for anything more than a plaintive squeak to force its way out of her throat. Then the pressure started to turn towards the sides of her neck, and that's when Seras' vision began to blur.

Her attacker was using a blood choke. As a vampire, brain damage wasn't as problematic as it otherwise would have been for a human, but being leaps and bounds below her master, her brain still needed a regular supply of blood to stay functioning...and now, as she felt herself being dragged away by her attacker, she could already see her world darken. Her struggles were already down to human level strength...too human to wrestle free from her anonymous assailant.

She saw a locker approach as her vision faded to black, and felt herself go limp entirely.

* * *

Seras blinked and shook her head. It was still dark, but it had taken only a second to find a source of light.

It was small though. Three horizontal slits showing the office space beyond. She was in a locker...again.

Rather than risk making a scene breaking the door down, she first began rapping on the inside of the door.

"Uh...hello?" Her new voice reverberated out of the locker. "I seem to be stuck here. Could someone help me out?"

As if on cue, a guard ran from around the corner and drifted up to her little prison. Was it Meryl? She had to warn her about-

When the door open, her hope for whatever plan was running through her head had been dashed.

"Sergeant, quit lollygagging and get out of there!" Said an annoyed and very **manly** Second Lieutenant.

Despite the curtness of his orders, Seras stepped back into the open world. No amount of sleeping in a coffin would have ever made a stay in a locker comfortable.

"I just got off the radio with Mantis. Says he wants all the soldiers here to vacate the floor and move onto the Communication Tower entrance." The lieutenant reported.

That update was all well and good, but something didn't ring right about all this.

"Um...lef..." she hesitated before remembering the proper pronunciation "...Lieutenant, aren't you the least bit curious of what I was doing in there?"

"..."

"I was knocked out and stuffed in there by someone! Don't you think that merits some sort of action?!"

"Uh..." the guard trailed off, bringing a thoughtful finger to his chin as he searched his memories.

* * *

**Four Months Earlier**

_Lieutenant Lawrence DuPont and a smattering of other OCS graduates sat in the front row of the spacious auditorium. Behind them, nearly a thousand enlisted men (also rookies) brought their attention to their commander, a one Liquid Snake, standing at a podium. To Liquid's left were two other FOXHOUND operatives, Vulcan Raven and Decoy Octopus if he remembered correctly, the latter currently wearing Liquid's form and distinguished only by his trademark fedora._

'Ahem' _Liquid cleared his throat loudly enough to silence the undisciplined whispering among the grunts in the audience._

"_Congratulations on completing the Genome Soldier gene therapy treatment..." He paused, trying to think of the full name of the program "...thing."_

_He leaned forward slightly, scanning the crowd as he continued. "You are now among the most elite of modern soldiers."_

"_**However!**_" _He slammed his fist onto the podium, to underline the importance of his next statement. "Your conditioning is not over. The Next Generation Special Forces are affiliated with FOXHOUND, and we hold a higher standard of excellence."_

_DuPont had kept __**just**_ _enough attention away from Liquid to notice Octopus snicker before Raven shushed him._

"_It is not enough to be physically superior!" Liquid stepped out from behind the podium and walked up to the edge of the stage. "You must be able to think as well as you can fight."_

_He brought his hands behind his back to take on a 'stern teacher' posture before continuing._

"_Consider a hypothetical mission in which your unit is defending a base against a single enemy infiltrator," his eyes began to take a shifty look once he had said 'hypothetical.' "While on patrol, you find a fellow member of your unit unconscious. What do you do?"_

_He looked into the audience. "Yes Private?"_

_DuPont turned around to see an eager grunt raising his hand._

"_Wake him up!" The F.N.G. answered._

_Liquid's face remained neutral, but decided to follow that up with another statement._

"_As soon as you get him on his feet, he mysteriously collapses again." _

"_Wake him up again!" Another grunt further back shouted._

_A spark of annoyance appeared in the FOXHOUND commander's eyes as he turned to the offending soldier._

"_The exact same thing happens as the last time you woke him up." His voice was quieter now, mumbling, but still coherent thanks to a mic in his vest._

"_Wake him up again!" The man directly behind DuPont answered. This sounded easy enough._

"_No matter how many times you wake him up..." Liquid's words were slightly scrambled by the sound of him forcing them through clenched teeth. "...he just falls unconscious again."_

_DuPont was about to answer when the frustrated commander gestured to his neck._

"_There are a bunch of tranquilizer darts sticking out of the back of his neck."_

_Of course, DuPont had to answer now or never. All the enlisted guys had their turn. He couldn't let the officers look like a bunch of fools, especially when the answer was so readily obvious._

"_Ooh! Ooh, I've got it sir!" DuPont waved his arms so eagerly he looked like a kindergartener._

"_Yes?" Liquid asked patiently, not taking his finger away from his neck._

"_...Wake him up again?"_

_

* * *

_**Back In The Present**

"...Nope, standard operating procedure Sergeant." Problem solved.

Having seen stranger things in the last half a day, the Police Girl shrugged and fell in step behind the lieutenant. She'd have to track down Meryl later.

However, something became apparent as she stepped back into the hallway.

_Where's Mantis' song?_

The hallway was quiet, too quiet. It wasn't quiet when she had arrived on the elevator. Psycho Mantis' tune had persistently played the entire time, and, while she had more pressing things to focus on, Seras was certain that it had continued to play as her mysterious attacker dragged her away.

Now that she thought of it, where **had** he gone after that?

"_...-ey! Men aren't allowed in here!"_ Her ears caught a muffled sound coming down the corridor.

"_...had no id...so...feminine,"_ Another voice replied.

"I'm going to check the men's bathroom, see if there are any stragglers. Wait here." The lieutenant hadn't even checked to see if Seras had paid attention to him and walked to the opposite end of the hall, far away from the conversation Seras had picked up.

He hadn't even ducked into the door by the time Seras began inching across the marble floor to the women's bathroom, the source of the words earlier.

"_This is no time to try and hit on me Snake..."_

Seras froze...

Sure, she recognized the first voice as Meryl. She may have not known her long, but at least knew her long enough to tell...but did she just call the other person behind the door **Snake**?

Seras decided to keep her distance once she was a body length from the door. If that was really 'Snake' in there with the rookie, he might reflexively attack her. The last thing she wanted to do was let them think FOXHOUND had a vampire in their ranks he hadn't been briefed on.

Meryl's brief pause ended with a scoff, "_...Besides, it's a waste of time. When I joined up, they gave me psychotherapy to destroy my interest in men."_

"_Same smart mouth, you're Meryl all right." _Yes, Seras recognized it too. Even if she hadn't seen his face, that raspy voice, while more relaxed than she remembered, had burned itself into her brain. "_Are you hurt?"_

"_Not yet, after all, I was disguised as a GENOME Soldier."_

"_So why'd you change? You'd be a lot better off dressed up like one of them."_ Again, a pleasant contrast to what she had heard the soldier say before. This time he sounded concerned, if slightly impatient with learning Meryl had not applied common sense to whatever he was complaining about.

"_I got tired of disguising myself,"_ Meryl sounded a little more irritable than the question should have made her. Though Seras realized a palpable silence underlined her answer.

"_The truth is..."_ She finally added. "_...The uniform smelled like blood."_

Seras gulped. So it was strong enough that even the human soldier could smell it too?

She bowed her head in pity. Meryl looked young. She couldn't have been in the army long at her age. That firefight in the prison was probably her first. The terrified screaming, the continuous staccato, Seras didn't even get a good look at her in action and she could recall her battle high.

It brought to mind Seras' first mission when she became a vampire. Even after "surviving" (such as it could be called) her first encounter with the undead, and witnessing even greater depravity on her first mission, the "Bonnie and Clyde" duo made her cringe. Her target was a teenage girl...had been a teenage girl, but on the surface, for all intents and purposes had been human. Incredulity about her new abilities had only been the more immediate distraction from finishing the fight, but that night, everything about her police training had originally screamed at her not to fire a killing shot.

It had taken her some time to recover from that bloody first night.

"_What's that mark?"_

"_Huh?"_ It seemed Meryl was on a similar mental tangent before Snake provided a welcome distraction. "_Oh, this? It's a paint tattoo, it's not real."_

Her voice began to sound nostalgic. "_I'm a fan of FOXHOUND way back, when guys like you and my uncle were in it. None of that 'gene therapy' like there is today."_ She had intoned 'gene therapy' as though she were a kid talking about being forced to eat spinach. "_You guys were __**real**_ _heroes."_

"_There are no heroes in war."_ Snake didn't sound flattered. In fact, he sounded quite bitter. "_All the heroes I know are either dead, or in prison. One or the other."_

"_But Snake," _an inflection of disbelief answered. "_You're a hero, aren't you?"_

A beat, its silence broken only by shifting feet...was he thinking it over?

"_I'm just a guy who can only find meaning on the battlefield. There's no winning or losing for a mercenary. The only winners in war are the people."_

"_That's right," _Meryl's idealism wasn't quashed yet. "_and you fight for the people!"_

Her assurance clearly didn't have the desired effect.

"_I've never fought for anyone but myself,"_ Snake sounded like he was trying not to sneer. "_I've got no purpose in life, no ultimate goal."_

"_Come on!"_ **Now** Meryl's idealism was getting quashed.

"Sergeant!" Seras' head did a 180 to see the lieutenant emerge from the bathroom with two soldiers hobbling in tow. From this distance, he could see one man painfully massage his head and the other grasping at a small dart in the back of his neck.

"Onto the elevator, we're going to the Comm Towers now." He shot a contemptuous glance to the men behind him. "I suppose some slackers like you could use the cold to keep you awake. Snake could be anywhere and I find all you goofing off on the job, you're lucky I can't court marshal you!"

The only protest the men behind him could issue was a pair of disharmonic groans.

Seras dared not glance back at the women's bathroom as she fell in line with the officer and his men.

"_It's only when I'm cheating death on the battlefield..."_ Snake said without the fanaticism Seras would have expected with those words. "_...the only time I feel truly alive."_

Seras winced and stepped onto the newly opened elevator.

"_Seeing other people __**die**_ _makes you feel alive huh?"_ Even as Meryl's voice faded, Seras could hear her contempt surface. "_You can't stop loving war. Is it the same for all soldiers throughout history?"_

The doors slid shut...

'_Wow'_ Seras thought. '_**That**_ _arsehole is supposed to save the world?'_ Her face faulted under her balaclava. '_What kind of screwed up family makes a man like that?'_

_

* * *

_**Twenty Minutes Later**

Mantis strained to breathe, his punctured lungs struggling to pull the filtered air through his mask and into his dying, frail body.

He couldn't believe it. He may have known this simple grunt had been called The Man Who Makes The Impossible Possible, but how had he found his weakness? Exploited it? **No one** should have been able to bypass his telepathy, and yet Solid Snake had found the one blind spot in his mind.

"So..." he wheezed "You...used the other..." The pain and disbelief derailed the revelation. "I...I wasn't able to read the future."

Footsteps alerted him that his killer was moving. Lying on his back, Mantis could only see the ceiling.

"A strong man doesn't need to read the future...he makes his own."

* * *

Idling inside the alcove, Seras was grateful to be out of the other guards' line of sight. With her body temperature equal to whatever the temperature around her dictated, it would look awfully conspicuous that no one could see her breath.

Right outside her designated hiding place was a long outdoor corridor leading to Communication Tower A. The small squad had gathered here to ambush Snake and Meryl should Psycho Mantis fail to stop them.

'_How would he fail to stop them?'_ That thought occurred to her. Mantis may have thought the Police Girl delusional, but surely he had time to dig deep enough to consider the possibility that he was going to die in the immediate future. Snake didn't have the benefit of a homicidally insane companion to mess with Mantis' mind-reading, so how _did_ he die anyway?

Speaking of death, given the utter depravity the psychic seemed to ooze with, Seras wondered how wayward souls like him could have possibly been qualified for limbo. What could possibly have given a monster of Mantis' evil, never mind Millennium's, a Get Out Of Hell Free Card?

* * *

Mantis felt the last bit of strain on his will end as the bookcase moved clear of the door. The only obstacle preventing Snake and Meryl from continuing their mission had been removed, a small reward for removing him from this miserable world.

But even as his body shut down, no longer able to sustain itself as his blood pooled underneath him, he could still think, understanding the repercussions of this simple generosity.

This was part of Liquid's plan to lull Snake into doing their job for them. **He** may have not been in it for Liquid's revolution, but nonetheless, it was one step closer to fulfillment.

If **Snake** still lived up to his status as TMWMTIP, however, and won, the millions of people he despised would survive, at the cost of only himself.

Either way...

"This is the first time I've used my powers to help someone..." he wheezed at the mercenary, who still knelt over his dying form.

"Strange..." His world darkened... "It feels...kind of..."

Hesitation.

"..._Nice_..."

He did not breathe again.

Snake rose off his knees, shunting the conversation to the back of his mind.

"Let's go Meryl." He kept his tone even, ordered. There was still a mission, after all, and no time to give this corpse a pity party.

He turned to move towards the new entrance when Meryl interrupted him.

"I'm sorry..."

Snake didn't look back at her, but the whisper caught him off guard.

"Meryl?"

"How could I let Mantis control my mind like that?" The bitterness and self-loathing in her voice made Snake pivot to face the girl, but her back was still turned to him. He had no time for this.

"If you're going to doubt yourself, I'll leave you here." His harsh voice bared no restraint. Meryl may have been a rookie, but he had no time for regrets.

"You're right." She turned around, a bit of confidence forcing its way in. Just to be safe, Snake decided a little more positive reinforcement was in order.

"Never doubt yourself." He tried not to give her an encouraging smile. "Just let it make you stronger. Learn something from it."

"You're right," she repeated with even more confidence. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

That was a relief. Snake nodded and once again took a few more paces to the door.

"Snake, can I ask you something?"

"What?!" He didn't stop and hoped the shortness of his reply would make her rethink slowing him down.

"About what Mantis said..." She was hesitating, but her curiosity wouldn't let her stop. "I was just wondering..."

"What?!" Snakes frustration returned in full. "What's the problem **now**?!"

"Oh no..." she trailed off, a quiet bitterness creeping in. "...nothing."

To Snake's chagrin, she simply moved to another line of questions.

"So tell me Snake. What's your name? Your **real** name?"

"Name means nothing on the battlefield."

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to know what death looks like." Just as laconic as the last answer.

"Any family?" There had to be some shred of humanity behind that man.

"No, but I was raised by many people."

"Is there..." She wasn't sure how to word this next one. "...anyone you like?"

"I've never been interested in anyone else's life." As far as he was concerned, that answer was enough.

"So you are all alone..." Pity and disdain followed. "Just like Mantis said."

She watched Snake, waiting to see if those words got to him. The longer the silence dragged on, the more certain she was that she had struck a nerve.

"Other people just complicate my life," he almost sneered. "I don't like to get involved."

Meryl's voice was quieter than ever, she didn't care if Snake heard her or not now. "...You're a sad, lonely man."

If Snake **did **hear her, he didn't let her know.

"C'mon...let's go..."

They both moved into the passage. Silence at last returning between them.

* * *

**Five Minutes Later...**

Seras checked her watch. Another five minutes gone. Fourteen more hours until doomsday and there she was, waiting for two people she barely knew, one of whom she had never even met.

And while she was now thankful for the silence that let her collect her thoughts, it reminded her of another conundrum. Decoy Octopus was nowhere to be found. She'd lost track of the shapeshifter after her second encounter with that ninja and was doing God knows what now. At this rate he might not even look like her anymore.

Seras started to wonder how that could have been a bad thing when two familiar voices hit her ears again.

"_This place is mined. I'll take point again, stay back, okay?"_

Seras tensed and gripped her rifle.

"_But the radar isn't working. And since we can't use the mine detector either..."_ Snake's voice was cut off by a sudden gasp.

"_Leave it to me."_ Meryl said with a renewed confidence.

Seras listened as she heard slow, wet footfalls thump across the end of the outdoor corridor opposite the towers.

"_So what do you think? Pretty good, huh?"_ A newfound cockiness filled the rookie's voice.

"_How did you know where the mines were?"_

"_It sounds weird, but when Mantis dove into my mind, I was able to see where the mines were placed. Are you impressed?"_

"_Well...a little bit."_ The concession was forced and facetious.

"_Only a little?" _Meryl deadpanned.

Unwilling to take the suspense, Seras peeked around the corner just in time to see a familiar blue suited figure don a pair of thermal goggles and slink to the floor. He set about, crawling on his belly like his code-name-sake.

Seras stared, for all her vision, she couldn't see any tripwires or misshapen lumps, and very little snow had accumulated down here. Just what was...

...A small yellow claymore mine appeared as Snake reached out for it. He defused it in seconds.

_Invisible mines...why am I not surprised?_

Seras concluded that sharing an island with a magical shaman, a psychic, and a ninja robot—a few years after being turned into vampires and fighting an army of bloodsucking Nazis, an illusionist, a werewolf, and a Quantum Physics manipulating Cat boy—may have just raised the bar on her expectations for craziness.

Seras then remembered there were a few other guards waiting in ambush in the alcoves down the hall. She dug into her pocket, reaching for the laser pointer Meryl had warned her to signal her with. The discretion would be invaluable to take down the others with as little a mess as possible.

"Meryl?" Snake's gravely voice was low...but something sounded off, worried even, about its shift in tone.

Seras had barely noticed, she was considering jumping out of the alcove and just waving at the duo when she noticed a hole in her pocket. Could things be more inconvenient?

Seras' answer came when she gave another peek to find that there was a laser light dancing across Meryl's body after all.

Not **Seras'** of course. But Meryl didn't know that. Maybe that's why she was standing still, gawking like an idiot as the little red dot slowly worked its way down her.

Not sure what to make of this development, Seras strained her vision just enough to pan her head away from Meryl and towards the metal balcony of Comm Tower A.

Invisible to anyone without her talents, Seras saw a Heckler & Koch PSG1 at the other end of the red beam, and behind it, a smirking blonde wrapping a finger around its trigger.

Seras had just enough time to wish she had something more accurate than her FAMAS before she caught a tiny, brown, metal projectile cut through the freezing air, almost shattering it with its deadly velocity. It traveled the barely shaken length of the laser, arcing downwards, down, down, down...

...Until it vanished into Meryl's right kneecap.

Seras held her breath, Meryl froze, and Snake was dumbfounded.

...and at the same time a tantalizing smell hit Seras' nose, and an agonized scream hit the vampire's ears as the source of both sensations fell.


	22. Pieces of the Puzzle

**Pieces of the Puzzle.**

**AN: **From Metropolis Kid, Okay, here's my section. Sorry about the delay.

* * *

Seras reached Vance and saw that he had a gasoline tank and a long blade jury-rigged together and strapped to his back. The man lit a cigarette and took a long drag before saying, "Welcome to Meresti. What brings a couple like you to our little piece of paradise?" Then his eyes momentarily locked with Alucard's, and the man's lips pulled into a knowing grin. "Ah, so that's it. Well, there's no need to run... or hide what you are anymore. You're among friends now, like-minded individuals."

The vampire master's eyes narrowed in response. "Among friends? You presume much... too much. And as for hiding what I am, I'm the only one in this cave of yours who's come to terms completely with what I am."

"Have you now?" Vance asked sounding surprised by Alucard's declaration. "Then why have you come to me?"

"We're here because of what happened to the Wests," Seras answered, cutting into the conversation. "Did you kill them?" She asked without any hint of reservation or fear, knowing full well that she and her former master could handle anything this scrappy gang could throw at her, should they choose to steer things in such a direction.

"No," Vance replied simply.

And it was Seras's turn to narrow her eyes, not quite knowing whether to believe him or not. "What about the boy? Is he here?"

"Yes... But he's unavailable at the moment."

"So make him available."

"No, the boy is at a crossroads, and he needs to decide which path he'll take. You're meddling in things you don't understand, and I can't let your ignorance influence his decision."

"I would be more careful, if I were you," Alucard warned. "You may think you know what lurks in the shadows, in the dark places of men's hearts... but you have no idea what power that darkness truly has." The vampire pulled his lips back, exposing his sharp, white teeth – fangs and all.

Vance was briefly startled by the sight, but he refused to take the bait and attack... nor would he back down. "I see... still, you are outnumbered here, and we will protect our own. You won't take the boy back to his former life, unless he's willing."

"Then is Ian one of your own?" Seras asked, beginning to understand that the young West was not regarded as a prisoner by the members of this gang. No, something very different was going on behind the scenes.

"As I said, he's at a crossroads."

"And we can't talk to him because we don't understand what's going on? So... explain it to us."

The edge of Vance's lip curled. "Knowledge given is not valued nearly as highly as knowledge gained. Talk to the others, they will each relate a part of the puzzle to you. Assemble it and come before me once more, and I shall consider allowing you to see the boy."

And so Seras descended the staircase, moving back into the pit where the rest of the gang roamed around, passing in endless circles or sitting on the church-like pews and mouthing words, their eyes closed in silent prayer. The Draculina talked to each of them and they each, did indeed, have a piece of the puzzle, though many times it was a piece she'd already collected from someone else.

"Kill not our kindred; slay only the enemy. This is our justice."

"Seek not the sun's light; embrace only the shadows. This is our refuge."

"Feed not for pleasure; partake only to nourish. This is our dignity."

"Bear not the child; welcome only the exile. This is our fate."

"Feast not on the flesh; consume only the blood. This is our strength."

And with that last piece, everything else clicked into place, and Seras returned to Vance.

"Have you done as I asked? Have you spoken with the others? Do you understand now?"

"I understand that you _think_ you're vampires."

Vance seemed amused by Seras's words and reaction to the revelation. He chuckled at her. "Do you think me some lunatic, who believes he will burn in the sunlight... or can transform himself into a bat once the moon has risen? No, I am not nearly so deranged as that."

"However," Vance continued, drawing in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "those you see here all suffer from a condition – a 'defect', others have labeled it. We were all born with a taste for human flesh; everyone in hear is a cannibal. … Or rather, they were before I met them and showed them that their hunger could be redirected; that they could substitute blood for flesh and in doing so regain some semblance of their human nature."

"There is nothing human about drinking blood," Seras argued.

"Under normal circumstances, perhaps not, but when compared to feasting on human flesh... Which do you think the lesser evil? Blood can be replaced, so long as the drainer is careful not to take too much. But chop off a limb or tear out an organ, and your victims will bear those marks for the rest of there lives. The code I've assembled from various segments of vampire folklore has allowed us to maintain at least a part of our humanity, rather than descending into mindless beasts who aimlessly roam the land searching for fresh flesh to consume – leaving a trail of bodies wherever we go and always being hunted for our appetites"

And suddenly an analogy entered Seras's head. The difference between what these people once were and what Vance had helped them become was the difference between ghouls and vampires – mindless monsters and monsters who did indeed hold fast to some aspects of their lost humanity. "I... I understand."

Vance stared at the strawberry-blonde for a moment. "Yes, I think you do," he mused allowed before nodding his head. "Alright, I'll take you to the boy."

And so the two real vampires followed the faux one to a locked door with a computer terminal to the side. Vance keyed a security code into the terminal, and the door unlocked and slowly swung open. Then Vance turned to leave his guests in private.

Seras had already taken three steps into the room (a dark, dirty place which had served as a public restroom before the bombs fell) when she noticed that her former master was still standing outside. "Aren't you coming with me?" Seras asked, turning her head back towards the door.

"No, this is your quest, remember? This boy poses you no threat, and so you must deal with him without my influence."

Seras was a little sad about the idea of leaving Alucard behind as she talked with Ian. Sure, he was her _former_ master, but she was enjoying working with him again after so many years. It felt familiar – nice – and brought back memories of a happier time.

If Seras had been told two hundred years ago that she'd eventually come to look back on her early years at Hellsing as a happier time, she'd would've called the one telling her that a bloody idiot. But time had a way of erasing the bad memories and only leaving the good ones – a faux, delusional, rosy picture. But even a lie, if it was a kind one, could provide something to cling to when your whole world was crashing down around you. And in the years following the nuclear war which devastated the entire planet, Seras had felt like that many times.

Still she'd grown over the centuries, become more independent, more self sufficient. And she wasn't about to get clingy now. Besides, it wasn't like she wouldn't see her old master again once she was finished talking to the boy. So, without another word – or any look that would've given her emotions away – Seras turned her head back and continued on, into the room where Ian West awaited her.

* * *

Alucard (formerly Count Dracula) continued on through the city, leaping from roof top to roof top in search of the peculiar woman who had become his master. He had her scent and he followed it, used it to track her and her captor down. It didn't take long. By the time the sun had finished cresting the horizon, the vampire had tracked down his prey.

However, to the monster's surprise his master was not the 'damsel in distress' he'd expected to find. Instead she stood tall, her gun trained on the cowering, weeping figure in front of her. "No, please, it... it wasn't my fault. I-I don't know what came over me."

Integra's finger tensed on the trigger that she desperately wanted to pull, the trigger that, under other circumstances she would've pulled without hesitation. But this time it was the face of an innocent looking up at her, a man who's only apparent vice was a weakness that had allowed someone -- something – else to control him... and now provoked such annoying begging.

"Tell me about 'Jack'," Integra growled as Alucard stood silently off to the side and tried to figure what could have happened between when his master had been abducted and now.

"He..." the quivering man began. "'It' started coming to me just over a month ago. At first I thought it was just another lost and troubled soul seeking some closure with those it left behind. You see, I'm a medium; I help people... connect with their departed loved ones.

"B-But this one was different, wild, untamed... psychotic. It whispered such horrible things to me. And I tried – I really did – to resist it. I even began searching for a way to block it out entirely... without severing my connection to all the other lost souls who needed my help. Eventually, one of the other spirits told me about a book that had information on how to combat the dead. It was in the private library of a wealthy, though very strange, young girl. She gave me chills every time I saw her, but agreed to let me look through her books in exchange for relaying some messages from her to departed friends and loved ones.

"It took me several days just to skim through the book titles, but eventually I found what I was looking for, 'Selesky's Study of the Dead and Damned'. The obscure tome was devoted to all manner of research into vampires, ghouls and ghosts, and in the ghost section I found a chapter on blocking out individual spirits."

"But now... I think that Jack had planned on me finding that book from the very beginning. When I tried to block him, our minds... maybe even our spirits themselves, joined for a split second and with that brief window he overpowered me and took control. I tried to fight him off, I always do. But... But I'm just not strong enough. Every night, when the sun sets and the spirits are free to roam, he takes me over and... and drives me out, into the darkness, to search for a new victim."

Having finished his tale, the man began weeping again. "Please, help me!" he cried out aloud.

And Integra sighed in annoyance before lowering her gun.

"You should just shoot him and be done with it," the knight's new pet advised.

"And what bloody good would that do?!" Integra snapped back in annoyance. "If this Jack's a ghost, then killing his nexus wouldn't stop him, only slow him down until he could find a new one. In fact, that's probably what happened the last time he disappeared."

"So," Alucard replied slowly, having been placed in a situation beyond his own, considerable experience, "what do you want to do?"

Integra didn't answer right away. Instead she looked out at the rising sun and seemed to examine it for a minute. "I don't know... but we have until nightfall to figure something out." Integra stopped and turned to the nexus. "Our first step should be studying that book you mentioned; where is it?"

"The girl let me hold onto it. It's back at my flat. But I've read that thing cover to cover, trust me there's nothing in there that's going to help."

"We shall see. We shall see."


End file.
